Sunlight
by Mister Melancholy
Summary: "Sleep in a coffin?" "Myth." "Turn into bats?" "Myth." "Sparkle under the sun?" "What? No, we like the sun. We glow in the dark." "Like... stickers? Then you're not a vampire?" "I am. Just a sun-loving one." BelEsto, UKUS, SpaRo
1. PREFACE

**PREFACE**

I've always been thinking about how I would die—though, of course, naturally, I'd have reason enough in the last few months of my life—but even then, I've never exactly imagined it to be something nearly like this.

What I've always imagined by death would be like was full of macabre. A rusty cuspidate piercing my body, dark red blood gushing out of me, my eyeballs turning into deathly alabaster. And then I would fall into a world of perpetual darkness, consumed by the shadows of my disgusting past and my broken future. The last I would see would be my very own brother, bloodied with crazed corruption, staring at me with a crooked smile on his face. Surely, that would be a very interesting concept when it came to death, being killed by the one you have loved since forever.

I growled, holding my angered breaths in, and stared at the luminous eyes of the hunter. He looked at me back, smiling salaciously almost, an eerily familiar object clutched tightly in his left hand. In the other hand, my prized hair ribbon, covered in a shade of maroon.

Surely, people would prefer this method of dying—quickly, painless—over the thought of dying through slow, torturous methods. I am not one of those people. I knew that if I had not moved from Russia to here, in one of the sunniest places on earth, then I would be able to have been killed by my beloved brother, painfully, exquisitely, perfectly. But, as annoyed as I was, I couldn't bring myself to move at all, paralyzed in place, glaring at the face of empathetic death in the eyes coldly.

The hunter smirked in an anxious way as he hastily trudged over to… kiss me. Then kill me quickly after he gets a few gropes and a bit of fluctuating fun time. But, most definitely, yes, kiss me.


	2. 1: LAST SIGHT

**1. LAST SIGHT**

My mother-figure drove me towards the direction of some kind of busy and smelly airport with the music blasting in my ears, full volume, the rhythm resembling something of modern techno-pop. _Lady Gaga_, no less. It was probably some fifty degrees below zero in Oymyakon, the sky a dismal, melancholy blue-grey, hardened snow still falling from the depressed clouds. I was wearing my usual attire, consisting of my favorite gothic lolita-inspired navy dress, complete with a black- and white-striped ribbon, somewhat matching my hair ribbon if you remove the black stripes. In my hand was a pair of shades, of which my mother-figure bought for me a few months back, when she told me we were to be moving _soon_. Soon is _now_, and now is _ugh_.

In practically the middle of nowhere, in some country I've never heard of before until my mother-figure started babbling about it to me frequently, a municipality in the Illizi Province called Bordj Omar Driss exists under a near-constant reign of the sun. The sun is up in this insignificant little municipality more than almost any other place in the world, or so my mother-figure claimed. It was from this municipality and its ebullient, happy skies that my mother-figure dragged me to when I was only a few days old or so. Which means I don't remember much about it, but that isn't too relevant. It was in this municipality that I'd been forced to spend a month every winter until I was a frustrating three years old. That was the year when my mother-figure and her husband realized that they preferred to have their heads on their necks and not dismantled by me. I don't blame them too much. Especially not my father, Toris, who I hold a far better respect than my mother-figure. He is just scared of me as all. Err, during the rare times I am angry at him, anyway.

It was to Bordj Omar Driss that I now hid myself—an action that made me realize I was quite the insane masochist. I loathed Bordj Omar Driss. Not as much as I loathed other things, particularly anyone who is not my brother or spaghetti straps. I, honestly, cannot even say I like my original birth place, Oymyakon, but I digress.

"Bella," my mother-figure said to me, to which I replied with an annoyed, _That's not my name, mother; it is Bel_, but my mother-figure ignored whatever I said, as always. My mother-figure watched me get onto the plane, tears in the corners of those caliginous, half-lidded emerald eyes, lips quivering with some sensual sense of pride. "Tell Liet that I like, like him!"

I frowned. My mother-figure looks nothing like me. While I have practically white long hair and a pair of (supposedly icy and intimidating, as people have said) violet eyes, my mother-figure had short blonde hair and, as aforementioned, emerald eyes that always seemed to be half-lidded. My mother-figure looks almost as young as me, but then again, I am practically almost sure that he is. Apparently, I was adopted anyway, which explains our lack of resemblances. If he were the one who gave birth to me, then I would have already killed myself when I was two years old.

I didn't even bother looking back to my mother-figure's wide, childlike eyes, how they usually bore into my soul and lured me into almost-slavery. I wouldn't mind leaving my defenseless, useless, good-for-nothing mother-figure alone to fend for himself. He hadn't anyone else, and the divorce was sporadic and regrettable, but the two still refuse to speak, stubborn as they are. It's fine though. My mother-figure surprises me sometimes by being able to live through a year with only a cell phone. He's just _that _kind of a man.

"I won't tell him," I deadpanned gravely, hearing him whine and flail and bawl right behind me. I'm not lying; I really wasn't going to tell Toris. It is disgusting. I do not indulge myself in being a messenger of sentiments. Also, I am good at being honest. Really.

"Tell Liet I said, like hi, at least!"

"I won't."

"But… but… you, like _have _to," my mother-figure insisted pathetically, and that was when I could feel his iron grip around my waist. "Or else I'll, like cry! For real, Bella!"

I could see fresh tears dribbling down his flushed cheeks now, and feigned or not, I couldn't care.

"It's Bel," I urged nonchalantly. "You'll live. I loathe you, mother."

My mother-figure stared at me intently for a prolonged minute with ardent anger, and then I got on the plane, and he was gone.

It's a twelve-hour flight from Oymyakon to Bordj Omar Driss, counting every stop in-between, of which I have no clue about. All I know is that I am flying from Russia to some place down in the south. That is all. Flying bothers me somewhat; it is tedious, and I honestly would rather that Toris drive me to my destination in question. Airplanes worry me.

Toris had been pretty nice about the whole thing, especially considering my mother-figure is a pretty difficult person to reason with. He seemed genuinely happy to find that I was to be living with him for the first time in the span of thirteen years. He told me he had already registered me for a high school somewhere close to where he was currently residing in, and he was going to help me get a car in a few months or so. Which, really, is not necessary at all, considering I don't have a driver's license. Naturally, nobody listens to me when I say something of significant importance. His ignorance was rubbed off on him by my mother-figure, I suppose.

But it was surely going to be a better life with Toris. He did all the talking, and I pretended to listen. It was the perfect relationship. My mother-figure always did annoy me with this, as he would keep talking, and I would keep droning him out, and he would expect a detailed response from me in the form of valley girl talk. I do not want to talk like the rest of this convoluted population. They disgust me, what, with their plethora of unnecessary "like's" and their stentorian music and their clothing choices. That is why I wear antique-esque clothing. Fortunately, people dare not cross my path when it came to mockery of my rather refined tastes. People are scared of me. At least they have some sensibility in the area of the stake of their lives.

When I landed at the airport in Bordj Omar Driss, it was so sunny out that I found my retinas begging for me to punch the sun out of existence. Instead of complying with my body's wishes, I merely put on the shades my mother-figure bought for me and found my eyes calming down, albeit only slightly. Surprisingly, I miss the unbearably freezing temperatures back in Russia already.

Toris was waiting for me in a police car. Of course, I expected something like this, as this is, from what I have conceived over the years, the only kind of car my family owns. My mother-figure insists on riding his pony every day, and he even bought me one, much to my dismay. I have not ridden it since the day I buried it somewhere in our backyard. I believe it is dead already, anyway.

Toris gave me a small wave, then a smile when I floated my way off the plane.

"Bells, long time no see," he greeted, smiling as he rolled down the window and motioned for me to come inside. I stood still, expression unmoving. "You look so pretty and grown-up! I'm proud? Oh, and how's Feliks?"

"The same," I replied in a deadly monotone, finally succumbing to Toris's anxious gesticulations and walked into his police car. Almost as if I was a murderer and he was to be taking me to the police station. I suppose I am a murderer, but he doesn't know that. I do not make my hobbies very clear.

I didn't bring much. There was nothing I particularly wanted to bring along with me, save for a few clothes and some spare knives and a few weapons, just in case. Surprisingly, I was not caught during the weapon inspection on the airplane. Typical.

"I found a good car for you. Expensive, but we'll make do, right?" he asked no one in particular, or maybe he was asking me. That did not matter though, because my only response was an ambiguous sound that resembled something of an "umph".

The rest of the car ride was dominated with my Lithuanian father's serenading voice. I droned him out, watching the bright scenery from behind the oblique window. I felt like a stranger in a new world then and there, wondering whether or not I would be able to survive the frequency of the bright sun overhead. I convinced myself I would shrivel up and die from the heat and the light and the lack of cold, and I suddenly found myself interested in that form of death. Frankly, I would have preferred something more violent and bloody, but becoming a prune-corpse would be good, too.

"So, do you like it here so far?" I heard Toris ask me, snapping me out of my reverie. I didn't answer for a while, mainly because I didn't want to and he should very well have been used to that by now, but I guess he was not for he reiterated his question: "Do you like it here so far, Bells?"

"No."

"Oh."

Therein afterwards, the car ride was dead silent, save for the rush of rolling car tires on pavement and the soft piano music playing in the speakers. I liked the quietness of it all. I actually enjoyed being with Toris during moments such as these.

When we finally reached Toris's household, I almost puked in response. Everything was so disgustingly brown—rotting brown, as if death swooped in and ate up every living thing, leaving only small remnants of withering life. Naturally, I would have liked that, but the fact that I would be living here in such a disastrous area, where the sun was out and beating up the leaves, I couldn't stand it. I could already feel a lack of oxygen from having no plants around. Just… death.

Actually, no. I liked it here. It was better than being stuck with my mother-figure by a longshot.

Toris's house, even, was respectable: a two-story house made of firm red bricks, plastered together perfectly with white, and I especially like the dismal and caliginous maroon door. It was the shade of dried up blood.

"Dad, this is better than my mother's house. Thank you." I never made myself to express gratitude on a daily basis, but I suppose Toris would deserve it from time to time. He has made my life all the more bearable, and for that I am truly, undoubtedly, and surprisingly grateful. For now, in the very least.

"I'm glad you like it, Bells," Toris said with a flustered expression, a pink blush dusting his pale cheeks. He looked like an embarrassed school girl. Not that something like that would be surprising, considering his and my mother-figure's past kinks. I would not like to think of _that_ anymore, though…

It only took me one trip to get all my stuff upstairs, but that may be from the fact that I hadn't much luggage to begin with anyway. Even though I really could not care in the least, I would like to note that I received the east bedroom, the one that faced out over our back yard. That meant that I was free from the sun, which, I suppose, is the only positive of having the west bedroom. The room was foreign; it had belonged to my older sister four years my junior, and I suppose it was passed down to me now that she is out of the house and living somewhere, her whereabouts unknown. Everything was worn out and a shade of yellow. I hated it. And, now I had to deal with it for the rest of my existence here, in this little sunny municipality, until I am finally out of both clutches of my parents.

Unfortunately, there was only one bathroom at the top of the stairs, meaning I will have to be sharing this with Toris. Hopefully, I don't have to if he knows what's best for him.

One of the worst things about Toris is that he pokes his head into my business frequently. Other than that, he is manageable. However, whilst I was unpacking my items, I found him staring at me inconspicuously from behind my new door, staring at me intently, and then flushing when he realized moments later that I knew of his annoying existence near my presence. So, then he left hastily, practically tripped along the way, and I resumed to my task in hand dutifully. Tomorrow was to be the bane of my entire life, so I had to prepare myself.

The school Toris registered me at was apparently called "Bordj Omar Driss High School," a logical yet uncreative name, I suppose. It is only a few minutes away from where I'm currently residing, which means I fortunately have the ability to walk there. I am not content with getting a ride to school in Toris's police car. That was just begging for attention, which, of course, I did not like.

Anyway, Bordj Omar Driss High School had a rather large population of only six hundred and sixty-five—now six hundred and sixty-six, thanks to me—students; back in my old school, there were only around one hundred or so people in the entire school, counting staff members. I would most definitely hate this school year, now, as everyone I knew back then were scared of me and never talked to me. That is because everyone grew up together at my old Russian school. Here, they don't know me. They don't know that I'm plotting to kill them. They just _don't_ know. But hopefully, they will learn soon enough, or they will have to face the unfortunate consequences of being killed. I would say I pity them, but I do not like to lie.

I looked at the clothes in my suitcase and decided that I would be wearing the same clothes tomorrow—my dress, my ribbon, my boots. That would repel everyone, and I may be able to live through the entire year without being noticed, even despite the plethora of attention I would be gaining for being the new student.

I slipped under my pale yellow covers and stared, annoyed, at the light switch. Stupid light, bothering me every single moment of my life… I practically had to force myself to trudge out of bed and flick the switch down, making the light bulb die out and consuming the room in a forbidding velvet of ebony.

Content with the darkness, I returned to my bed, making an attempt to sleep as soon as my head fell onto the pillows. Today is the end of the winter, and come summer tomorrow—a painfully long, blazing, and insane summer.

**

* * *

**

I slept exceptionally well that night. When I woke up the next morning… that was a different matter altogether. I was absolutely petulant, my mouth foaming with seething poison, and Toris was obviously aware of the danger he would have to face when I came down for breakfast. So, when I sat down, he immediately retreated to the living room to avoid me for the rest of the day, or whenever my seemingly bad temper died down to a respectable nonchalant level.

Breakfast was nothing special, of course. Toris made some Lithuanian-inspired dish that I particularly did not care for, but I had to agree that it was actually somewhat tasty. I have never been a picky eater, though, so I just ate with no exact thoughts and feelings, looking around my surroundings like a just-born baby. The kitchen was organized, and from my seat I could see a little frame, of which inside was a picture of Toris and my mother-figure from when they were younger—from when they were actually happy with each other and never fought nor argued nor anything. Just kissed, and hugged, and all the other sentimental stuff as that. I never exactly liked dwelling on such a subject as romance, but I suppose that Toris and my mother-figure did make a rather flawless couple back then. The reasoning for their divorce was something I never really could understand, but I would never ask. No. It was not in my position to. Besides, Toris breaks down crying whenever someone is ignorant enough to bring up the subject of their divorce. I'd rather not have to deal with another bawling baby.

I wanted to be late for school today, but I knew I couldn't stay in the house for long as Toris had to leave soon anyway. I had no key to the house, so if he left, that meant I was stuck inside the house until he came back during the afternoon. Hopefully, I will get a key soon, or else I'll have to resort to making my own copy. I would do that if Toris forgets to give me one after a week or so.

When I stepped outside, I found my skin being burned under the sun. I sighed and began to walk towards the direction of the school, which, from where our house was, I could see perfectly clear off into the distance, stabbing the clear blue skies with a violent point haphazardly protruding from the roof. Walking there did not take as long as I thought it would; actually, it only really took five minutes at best, and I was not even trying to speed walk. Just walked with my usual pace, which fluctuates between quick to slow at times, but generally is an all-around leisurely pace.

The school itself wasn't too much of an awe-inspiring building, but it was exceptionally bigger than my old school, which was dismal and pathetically tiny and inferior compared to this castle-like structure. Nonetheless, I walked inside the huge school and made my way towards what I perceived as the front office, especially from the huge sign on it saying, "FRONT OFFICE".

Inside, it was brightly lit, just like what outside was. I sighed. It was a lot warmer, too, something of which I was definitely not used to having to live in a cold place such as Russia for the majority of my life. The office was small, with a waiting room consisting of a coffee table, a sofa, and a withering plant, about to give up life. I wish I was that plant. From the corner of my eye, I found a tall man with dirty blonde hair and abhorrently thick eyebrows staring at me with nonchalant patience. I returned his stare with a cruel glare.

The blonde man looked to the side, hiding himself from behind his computer. "H-hello. I am Mr. Allen Kirkland. How may I service you today?"

"New student. Need classes," I responded, still keeping up with my cold glare.

"What's your name?"

"Natalia Lorinaitis," I informed him carefully, and I could feel that he was expecting me from the interested he was now giving me. Of course, that much I should have expected—to be the topic of gossip, especially Toris just _had_ to be the Chief police officer of this municipality. That meant I was the daughter of said Chief, come back home from a rather long absence, complete with a (proclaimed) cold and distant attitude to match the whereabouts of the place I grew up in. Something, I knew, people would not have expected in the very least.

"Oh, the Chief's daughter! Welcome back!" The newfound exuberance and excitement in the tone of his voice made me cringe. He began skimming through a precariously large stack of papers, and the he pulled out one particular page, of which had a picture of me from way back when. Probably just a few years back. I was not smiling.

"Here are your classes, and here's a map of the school, in case you get lost. This is a pretty big school, after all," he said, nodding his head. Then he assumed to explaining every single one of my classes in excruciating detail, as if I knew nothing of the classes I signed up for. He kept smiling at me, trying to convince me that, like Toris, I would grow to enjoy being here in Bordj Omar Driss. I frowned back as if to say he better keep on dreaming, for I would never in my life enjoy being here or anywhere as a matter of fact.

After he was done with his prolonged and not so-informational speech, I power-walked out of the office as soon as possible and began navigating the lengthy and jam-packed hallways to the best of my ability. Fortunately, my first class was only a few doors away from the main office, a rather convenient thing for me.

Once I walked inside, my head down low in guillotine fashion, because I really wanted to just die now, I found that the teacher was staring at me intently with scrutinizing wonder. He had dressy black locks that were gelled to perfection, burning orbs of never-ending enigmas, and a mole that stood out, right in the corner of his thin lips. Admittedly, he was handsome. Admittedly, he was intimidating. Admittedly, he was already glaring at me once he realized I was the Chief's daughter. And then he introduced himself as Mr. Edelstein, wringing my arm as a greeting.

Likewise, the class was the least bit bearable. Just a bunch of reading. Thankfully, this was a multicultural school, and everyone had the ability to speak English more or less fluently, which is the only other language I know besides Russian and Belarusian. The teacher, of course, droned on in his trite and professional voice, the class seeming to go on forever.

When the bell rang, a shrill shriek that emitted a sense of panic, a really pretty girl with long, flowing brown locks and childish green eyes leaned across the aisle to talk to me, a small gracing her flawless features.

"You're Natalia Lorinaitis, right?" She looked like the friendly, talkative type of girl, the popular one with the perfect boyfriend and the large clique. The type that I did not care for.

"Bel," I corrected quietly, and she looked at me, her eyes glowing with wonder as if she was trying to ask why I would go by such a nickname of my name was _Natalia_. That, of course, is the product of a childhood memory. All I can say is that the nickname of "Bel" was something my beloved older brother gave me from when we were younger, and it just stuck. Now I will be forced to make it stuck in this annoying municipality.

When I didn't answer her unasked question, she smiled at me again and placed an arm (that I was going to dismantle) around my shoulders, tightening her grip around me in a friendly (and deadly) grip. "Where's your next class, Bel?" she asked.

I had a photographic memory, so I immediately answered with "history," which was, indeed, my next class. Her eyes lit up with amusement, and she began to laugh, idly playing with stray locks of her pretty hair.

"That's my next class, too! You're gonna love it!" She stared at me, her perpetual smile making me want to go suicidal… again. "I'm Elizaveta," she added as a second thought. "But call me Lizzy, 'kay?"

"Umm, okay…" I probably was not going to be conversing with her again anytime soon, or making an effort to memorize whatever her name was anyway, let alone her nickname.

"Alright! Let's go, Bel!" She started dragging me towards our next classroom, chattering incessantly whilst doing so, as if she couldn't live without speaking for even a second. When we finally made it towards the classroom, I sat down with what seemed like the Hungarian girl's little group of friends: a ditzy-looking brunette with a precarious curl sticking out from the rest of his smooth hair; a brawny blonde and blue-eyed boy that, from the looks of it, was the most serious person I've seen in my entire life; and a white-haired, red-eyed boy, who was talking right now, using a lot of expletives and referring to himself in third person. An arrogant narcissist. Great. Just what I need to complete my life.

They introduced themselves to me, but naturally I didn't listen and instead opted to blatantly ignore them. They didn't seem to realize that I was being a jerk to them, and they pulled me into their little group like it was meant to be.

From what I could tell, the ditzy brunette and the brawny blonde were a lovey-dovey couple. I mean, they only shared a few thousand pecks on the cheek here and there, but that's what I was able to assume. They were both boys though, which bothered me a little bit, but at the same time, I found it extremely… entertaining. The Hungarian girl sitting beside me probably thought that, too, for she was fawning all over them, a trickle of fresh blood flooding down from her nose.

The class went by pretty quickly, and before I knew it, it was already lunchtime. Lunchtime, in my book, is known as the period of time that will forever ruin my life. The apprehension and eminent I was feeling in the pit of my stomach was even encouraging my suspicions. But, before I could even escape the wrath of the premonitions of my abdominal region, the Hungarian girl and her little group of friends were already dragging me towards the direction of the cafeteria, forcing me to sit down on the table they claimed in a span of only a few seconds after the bell. They retrieved their lunches quickly from the line and returned to sit next to me, conversing with one another like a train wreck, as someone would say something and someone else would start another conversation on a totally unrelated subject. Of course, I was not listening to them at all. And, because of this, I began to look around the room. It was there, sitting in the lunchroom with the most bored expression ever, trying to drone out the unsuccessful attempts of initiated conversation from the four strangers I was sitting with, that I first saw them.

They were sitting in the corner of the cafeteria, secluded, as far away from everyone else, yet they attracted the most special and awe-inspired kind of stares from everyone. There were five of them, and they were all of exceptional comely stature, their faces, however pale, giving off an aura of perpetual beauty. In front of them were numerous trays of untouched food, and even though I detested going along the crowed, I found myself staring at them, studying them to the point of obsession, as I pinpointed every exact detail to the fullest.

They didn't look anything alike, or at least from what I could tell from my distance. There were two boys, and of the two of them was a gentleman-like boy who sat with the upmost regal posture, sitting erect with hands in his lap. He had a tousled mess of blonde locks, his eyes a somber green that stung with perpetual pain, as if he was trying his hardest to keep himself from killing the entirety of this school, or rather, the world. I didn't blame him, and I actually would like to say I very much encouraged that thought. The other boy was something of a wonder, with a lighter shade of blonde locks, his eyes an alluring shade of blue, hidden behind a pair of glasses. He looked to be the smart one, the boyish one, the one whom of which I found myself staring at slightly longer than the rest. There was something about him, I couldn't exactly put my finger on it, but he was definitely someone special—and that very fact, and also the fact that I'm proclaiming such a thing, made me punch myself mentally.

I moved on to the others in the immediate I found that I may be developing something for the boyish boy. The other three, whom of which were all girls, looked nothing alike, yet were similarly all beautiful, but in their own distinct way. The first one I noticed had her eyebrows furrowed midpoint, exhibiting choleric wrinkles, but even then she was such a beauty, one's self-esteem would definitely take a hard blow just by looking at her flawlessness. She had long, slightly wavy brown locks, slightly held back by a red headband, and a precarious curl was jutting out from her bangs, much like the curl that one boy had (one of the Hungarian girl's friends, if I could remember correctly; he was still sitting with me, I think). Her eyes were a shade of amber that were both full of enmity and disguised romance, the latter part directed towards the girl beside her. That one was slightly tanner than the rest. Overall, she was the tannest, but was almost as comely as the other girl—the angry-looking girl. This one was the very opposite of the angry-looking girl, for she was smiling all happily, as if there were no dangers and evils or worries in life. She had short blonde locks, and she had a matching red headband as the other beauty. Her eyes were a forest green, of which smiled like the radiant smiles she was exhibiting right now. And then finally the other girl, a small and pixie-like creature, who seemed to be as talkative and arrogant as that one albino whose name I'd forgotten. She too had short blonde locks, clipped back with red, triangular hair clips, and her eyes were an abysmal sea of hopeful blue. She clung onto the pained-looking boy for dear life, reassuring him with whispers that, from here, looked like she was biting his ear.

And, of course, even though they looked nothing alike, they were all exactly like, from their movements to their extremely pale (well, with the exception of the aforementioned tanned girl) composures. Paler than that one albino kid with the red eyes. And even though they had different eyes, they all seemed to glow with dark malice, dark shadows under those eyes—shadows that resembled corrupted bruises. It looked as if they were suffering from something mysterious, yet even with something as imperfect as that, they all still seemed to manage to be as beautiful as whatever is beautiful (I wouldn't know considering I think almost everything is ugly). All their features were straight, perfect, angular… _perfect_. Their beauty wasn't why I couldn't look away, though. No. There was something else.

I stared because I knew they weren't human, and I knew that they had to be some other kind of creature. No one could be paler than someone like that albino, and no group had all perfectly beautiful people. And no one—and I mean, no one—had sets of those carnivorously sharp cuspidate teeth, of which I quickly assumed they were vampires, in the very least. Why they would be in one of the sunniest places on earth is beyond me, though.

They were all looking away from each other, though—away from everyone else, into oblivion, into naught. As I stared on intently, still painfully scrutinizing all their features in detail, the small and pixie-like girl ascended with her tray—unopened coke, unbitten pizza—and trotted away with hasty, graceful steps that looked more like an alluring dance than a natural walk. Surprisingly, I was amazed, much like I was amazed with the entirety of the group, and I watched her glide back towards her original table with the quickness and stealth of a leopard. So unnatural, so surreal.

My eyes went back to my own table then, and I considered asking who in the world those people were. But I couldn't bring myself to, especially when the four strangers were already talking up a storm of incessant and unrelated stories.

Though, the Hungarian girl probably saw me staring at the inhumane group, and smiled at me, nudging me softly. "You're probably wondering who those five are, huh, Bel?"

Reluctantly, I nodded my head in agreement. Like I said, I don't like to lie, and I was pretty curious about the five inhumane and vampire-esque creatures.

As she looked up to look at the five people in question, suddenly he looked at her, the boyish one, the one with glasses, perhaps. He looked at my neighbor for just a small nanosecond, and then his blue eyes flickered towards my direction, staying there for a long time. I turned my head to the side in a frantic daze. What was going on…?

The Hungarian girl giggled in embarrassment, looking at the tale again, and then pointing to each one respectively as she explained me to them. "That's Eduard and Emma Grullon, and Rosella and Gasper Fale, but their real names are Romana and Arthur Fale respectively. Romana goes by Rosella because of Emma. She keeps calling Romana that, so I guess it stuck, but nobody knows why. I guess because she's really pretty like a rose, but she's really mean… like its thorns. And Gasper? As weird as it sounds, he randomly starts gasping, like he's in pain or something. It's weird, so everyone started calling him Gasper," she said in a matter-of-fact manner, as if she had an instruction manual for all these details. "The really short and midget one is Alicia Cullen; they all live together with Dr. Cullen and his, uhh, _wife_." She said this under her breathe, like she was reciting some evil and sinful statements, or as if she was hiding some secret she most definitely didn't want to tell me. I guess she was.

I glanced towards the direction of that beautiful boy whose name is apparently _Eduard_—a name that's somewhat popular nowadays for some unknown reason. He was crushing a scrumptious piece of confectionary with one hand, his lips movement but only slightly. The other four looked away, but even then, it seemed like they were all communicating with each other somehow.

After a few minutes of surreal daze, I suddenly remembered the Hungarian girls' name: Elizaveta, or, as she wanted to be called, "Lizzy". And, though I didn't care much… Okay, I just really didn't care.

"They are… very pretty," I found myself saying, struggling with commenting people like that, even if it was a huge understatement.

"Totally!" Lizzy agreed with another annoying giggle, which reminded me so much of my mother-figure. I wouldn't be surprised if they were blood-related, or at least in the same family. Though, that would mean I would be somewhat related to the Hungarian, which is something I can only find in a nightmare. "They're all… _together_ though, if you know what I mean." She gave an ominous look towards their direction, and then redirected her attention at me. "Emma and Rosella… I know they're both girls, but they are way too close for comfort sometimes, even though Rosella doesn't exactly show it. And then there's Gasper and Alicia. And they all _live_ together, as in they're _family_. Incest much, right?" Her voice held feigned disgust, but deep inside, there was something inside her that was awed at the beauty of possibly incestuous relationships. I began coughing at that moment, pushing away thoughts of my beloved older brother.

"Which ones are the Grullons?" I asked despite myself, because those five inhumane creatures just made me so uncharacteristically curious. Especially… especially… "They don't look related. At all."

"Oh, they're not, I think. Err, at least, I heard from secret sources. Dr. Cullen is really young, even if he does look a little… uh… young, y'know? You'll get it when you see him. But I'm pretty sure he's in his twenties or early thirties at most. The Fales _are_ related though, brother and sister. You know, Rosella and Gasper? The really scary ones, and they're foster children. Kinda cool, but I feel bad for them sometimes." Sometimes, Lizzy talked too much for her own good. But, even then, even when I was annoyed with her incessant talking, I began to absorb all this information much like a sponge, my curiosity rising to the brink of overload.

"They look too old. To be foster children. I mean."

"Well, only Emma is; she's eighteen. But she's—well, they've all been—living with Mrs. Grullon for so long, since they were like, three or something. Mrs. Grullon is their aunt, or, well, her 'aunt'." Again, her voice was wearily soft, her inconspicuous tone returning, and my suspicions heightening, but I pushed them aside. "I don't think Mrs. Grullon," she said empathetically, staring at the inhumane creatures with a sorrowful and pitiful expression, "can have any children. That's why she has a bunch of foster children. At least, that's what I've been hearing. Oh, and they used to live in somewhere in Arizona. Yuma, I think. Then they moved down here."

"Why do you know so much about them?" I asked, earning a flushed and flustered and very embarrassed look from the Hungarian girl, as if she just realized she had her period and she was, unfortunately, wearing white and almost-to-the-point-of-translucency clothes. And, in fact, she was. "Do you… stalk them?"

"No," she said, but I could see the denial in her eyes. I didn't respond after that, mainly because the bell finally rang, and also because I already knew she stalked them, what, from her plethora of knowledge. It wasn't as if stalking was anything bad though. I honestly do not see why people have such a negative attitude towards stalking, as if it is a crime of some sort. I would not say it is a crime until you get the restraining orders, and I haven't gotten any yet.

I began to examine them. The seemingly youngest, one of the Grullons, looked up and met my gaze, meeting vulnerable violet with abysmal blue. There was what seemed like a very curious expression on his face, as if he wanted to know who I was. Frankly enough, I wanted to know who he was too, so the feeling was mutual. Not sentimental, but the same, at least. I knew his name though.

"That's Eduard," the Hungarian girl said, as if she could read half of my mind. Obviously, I already knew his name, but I didn't make myself correct her. That would just cause too much confusion with an idiot like her. "He's amazing and gorgeous, and smart too, but don't get your hopes up. He doesn't date. None of the girls are good enough for him. People are saying he's gay or something, which is kinda hot. I hope he is." She blinked. "I mean—_I mean_…! Err, forget I said that." She looked around like a paranoid murderer, and I wondered if she was speaking the whole truth and nothing but it, or a devastating and gossip-controlled lie.

I bit my lip to draw out some blood, wondering if maybe I could kill myself slowly by losing blood through my punctured lip, because I absolutely did not enjoy the fact that I was smiling at Eduard. Apparently, he looked away, but I saw his cheek twitching, fluctuating in motion, as if he was trying his hardest to stop smiling.

After a few more minutes of silence between, altogether, in simultaneous grace, their departure noticeably elegant and timed to perfect rhythm. It was a spectacular sight, something you couldn't stop staring from. However, the one… the one named Eduard didn't look at me again, and I stopped myself from staring at him a moment too soon.

I continued to sit at the table with Lizzy and her friends a bit longer before standing up and rushing towards my next class. It wasn't as if I was particularly anxious about getting to my next class, but I just needed to take a breath of fresh air, away from the cafeteria, away from the very place I saw them, just away from everyone. It was only my first day of school, and I found myself having more excitement than I originally thought. I would have expected my first day to be boring, just learning and droning out the teacher's tedious lecturing, every single day, but something I had not expected were meeting those vampires. I know for sure they are vampires. It's too hard not to realize that, what, from all of their strange and unnatural qualities. Though, them being in such a sunny place still bothered me, forcing me to forget about my suspicions. What in the world would vampires be doing in a place such as Bordj Omar Driss, of all places?

Nodding my head, erasing those thoughts from my head, I began to realize that there was a girl that was walking beside me. One of my new acquaintances, I presumed; how could I have missed her? She considerately kept reminding me of her name, which was Madeline—Madeline Williams, a tentative girl who I had Biology with for the next hour. We walked to class together in a sensitive and serene silence. She was shy, too. Or, in the very least, not as talkative as the rest of the school's population.

When we entered the room together, Madeline rushed towards a black-topped lab table, next to that albino (whose name, if I remember correctly, was Gilbert or Gilbo—something strange like that), and they began to openly flirt with each other. Obviously, she already had a designated neighbor, much like everyone else. Except, surprisingly, for one. That one table was in the middle of the aisle, and lo and behold, the lone person sitting at that half-empty table was none other than the person I definitely did not want to see: Eduard Grullon. Fate can be humorous sometimes, giving me such an unwanted circumstance such as this.

I apprehensively began walking down the aisle, weary of the stares everyone was giving me, and tentatively sat next to Eduard, who, though unmoved, stared at me from the corner of his deep-set blue eyes. But, despite the possibility he was smiling at me earlier on the day, during lunchtime, his expression upon the immediate I sat down turned rigid, hostile, full of rancor and enmity. I looked away in shock, wondering why he suddenly had a change of heart for me. Naturally, I would not care for such things, especially considering he is but a stranger for me… _But_…

The biology teacher, Mr. Marcello Vargas, a man from the Principality of Seborga (that's what he wrote on his whiteboard, along with other useless "fun facts" about him and his lifestyle and his children; or rather, _child_ nowadays, which would have stabbed my with pity if I wasn't raised in the harsh cold of Russia) handed me a book, took one quick glance at me, then smiled softly, letting no words come out from his mouth, unlike what most teachers did earlier the day, giving me a full-out lecture on the course, much like how Allen Kirkland did. I looked down and saw there was a list of instructions atop the book. He then, through proper and clear gesticulations and no verbal interaction whatsoever, told me that I would be sitting in this same exact spot for the rest of the semester, unless I somehow got a schedule change, which we both doubted. Unfortunately, Eduard seemed to figure out what Mr. Vargas was telling me, as his angered expression got ten times worse, if that was even possible.

I couldn't even pat any attention during Mr. Vargas's lecture, for the only thing I could concentrate on was Eduard and the fact that he was showing too-obvious animosity towards me, someone whom of which he barely even knows. And, even though I am very much a hypocrite for saying this, for I instantly hate certain people too, I just can't exactly fathom that sudden change of mood. If he had not smiled earlier, if he had not stared at me earlier with such a beautiful expression… I may have no minded at all. But it wasn't as if his hateful expression was filled with the extremities of loathe. I could see a bit of restrained… something… in his eyes, like he was a rabid and crazy caged animal yearning to be free. There was a voice in my head, some voice I've never in my life heard before, that was telling me I should be that one person to set the animal free. I'm not sure if I could if, for the first time of my life, I found myself actually being scared of someone. Somehow, who, at first glance, could have very well been mistaken for a fragile little nerd. Too bad he wasn't; he was practically the opposite, but at the same time still seemingly smart (he was doing our entire assignment himself, face fixed, his hands and arms the only parts of his body moving).

My head was down the entire time. That was, until, I curiously peeked my head over my book, but I immediately regretted that when I saw Eduard's burning gaze on mine. If looks could kill, I most definitely did want that, just so I wouldn't be able to suffer through all this torture anymore. Too bad looks really couldn't kill.

At that moment, the bell rang, and Eduard was already out of the classroom in the swiftest and unforeseen manners. I was practically gawking at how fast he was, which had me completely paralyzed in my seat, blinking stupidly whilst I watched people passing by in a blur of chromatic colors.

I started gathering up all my belongings and assumed a nonchalant expression, but deep inside, I was on the brink of crazed despair. It was weird. Never in my life have I felt such emotion, and never have I ever felt such ardent emotion directed at _me_. I was angry—fuming—and whenever I'm mad, I usually kill, a consequential tendency if not executed in the correct mannerisms. And from the foggy cloud in my head, I knew for sure I wouldn't be able to.

Suddenly, I heard a voice from my right. "Aren't you Natalia Lorinaitis?" His voice was something of a gruff tenor, husky and low. He was pretty handsome, with a sharp mess of blonde hair that stuck up in a fashion that defied all the very laws of gravity, smiling at me with a toothy grin, all friendly-like. A nice change from Eduard's hostility; I never thought I'd actually say something like this.

"Bel," I corrected him, with a slight pout, my eyes half-lidded in worry and despair.

"I'm Mark."

"Hi, Mark."

"Do you need help finding her next class or something? 'Cause, you know, I can take you there, and maybe show you around sometime later." He winked at me, and I scrunched up my nose, because I found it really pathetic that he would think I enjoyed his subtle flirting.

"I already know where the gym is."

"Oh, gym?" His eyes brightened up at that, his toothy smile becoming even more toothy and white and giant. "That's my next class, too! What a coincidence!"

I am now officially proclaiming the very fact that fate indeed does exhibit a sort of hatred and spite towards me for reasons unbeknownst to everyone else. Maybe it's because I'm practically a murderer, but it can't be as sinful as some other stuff people indulge themselves with the upmost enjoyment. Like chess. Who plays chess anymore?

Nonetheless, I walked with Mark to our next class together; he talked a lot, like the rest of the people I've met during the course of my first day at Bordj Omar Driss High School. Naturally, I didn't really listen to him, but I did learn that he was born somewhere in Denmark. That was all I learned, and I completely forgot his name for a second, until I realized that his name was _Mark_ and he was born in Den_mark_. The irony is so inconvenient, I wanted to stab him in the back with the sheath I had under my dress. Yes. I had one. Under my dress. He seemed nice, though, if he wasn't talking about other people behind their backs, particularly this one boy with an Icelandic-sounding name.

Then, he had to ask something that really made me want to kill him at the spot: "So, did you stab Eduard Grullon with a machete or your bra or something? He was so fuckin' angry today! He's usually a quiet and emotionless dude…"

A flinched, taken aback. I wasn't expecting other people to realize that Eduard was being uncharacteristically hostile towards me, and the fact that he apparently wasn't usually like that made me twitch slightly. I decided to be quiet for the rest of that awkward moment, and he seemed to realize that I didn't want to talk about it at all. Except, he decided to talk about Eduard himself. (It seems like there must be a documentary about the Grullons, as everyone apparently knows every single detail about their lives.)

"He's really… different." Mark lingered next to me instead of changing out. Before he could say anymore, I walked into the girl's changing room, somewhere where he couldn't hover over me like an idiotic loser. Bordj Omar Driss was already my personal hellish world, and everyone in this school just further proved that fact.

The sport we were playing today was some foreign corruption of football, of which I had no idea of the rules. So, naturally, I stumbled and failed and made my team lose, who surprisingly wasn't as angered as I thought they would be. Rather, they seemed to pity me, and I just wanted to claw their pathetic expressions from their faces. I restrained myself as best as I could, though. No need to bring more attention to myself, and as a delinquent nonetheless.

And, when I seemingly finally lost all control over myself, the final bell rang at least and I rushed to go change immediately, wanting to go home as soon as possible. But I needed to go to the office first. I wouldn't be able to stand sitting next to Eduard for the rest of the semester, even if it was only one class; if he couldn't stand me, I couldn't stand him, and changing classes would benefit both of us. But, of course, I just had to see him—Eduard Grullon—standing at the desk in front of me. He seemed oblivious to my entrance, and I tried to keep it that way to avoid a possibly deadly confrontation I definitely did not need after grueling school hours.

He was arguing with the receptionist, Allen Kirkland, in a low voice of hushed whispers, demanding a change in his schedule concerning his biology class—the only class I have with him. That couldn't have been mere coincidence. I knew for sure that he only wanted to change that particular class because of me; it seemed the only logical explanation, as he managed to survive the first few months of biology just fine until _I_ came along.

Suddenly, the door opened, and a wind rushed inside, causing the papers to rustle alongside the faint winds. A girl walked in, shyly, and I realized it was Madeline Williams from my biology class. She quickly placed a note in the wired basket, stared tentatively at everyone else in the room, and scurried out of the office frantically, as if she could sense the inevitable danger that would be shared between me and Eduard.

That's exactly what happened. At least, in my eyes, for Eduard's entire body began to tense, have small spasms here and there. He then glared at me intently, his sharp teeth showing, an almost-inaudible growl being emitted from the depths of his throat. I felt threatened for my life, that very same feeling of apprehension returning to taunt me. Of course, this only lasted for a few more minutes, but that was only when he turned his back on me and continued his unsuccessful argument with the receptionist.

"Just forget it," he deadpanned angrily, his voice smoother than caramel. "I suppose I will abide by the rules and change when the semester is over. Thank you for your help." His choice of words, though seemingly pleasant and very gentleman-like, his voice was seething with venom that seeped into my skin, giving me just the amount to possibly bring me to bed for months, maybe even years.

He walked out of the door hastily and almost frantically, just like how Madeline did, and I walked up towards Allen, who gave me a reassuring smile. "How was your first day?" Allen asked warmly in an attempt to comfort me. It didn't work.

"Like hell," I said, my voice meek and trite. I was tired of everything already. I could only imagine what the rest of the school year would be like.

I went outside immediately after Allen gave me another small smile, telepathically trying to tell me it would all be better tomorrow, or maybe the next day after that, or maybe the next day after _that_, and so on and so forth. Obviously, that would be a never-ending cycle. Nothing can get better after all this.

Outside—still bright and sunny, all warm that gave a sense of home. Inside—a destructive volcano that was on the verge of eruption, angered by anger, confused by everything. At least, that was what was happening inside of _me_. I walked all the way back to Toris's house with my head down low, my movements slow and unhurried and feeling very heavy. I fought the sporadic urges to stalk Eduard home and kill him in his sleep. If he was gone, then maybe I wouldn't suffer that much. If he was gone, then maybe—just maybe—I wouldn't be asking myself why in the world that, despite his rancor towards me, I still find myself having the slightest bit of interesting in him.

Damn it.


	3. 2: CLOSED BOOK

**2. CLOSED BOOK**

The next day was ultimately a lot better, much like Allen's optimistic premonition, for various reasons I would have never dreamt of, even if willingly.

Today, the predominantly sunny municipality was surprisingly overshadowed by dismal grey clouds that hung low in the darkened skies, depressed and yearning to come down and sweep the entirety of Bordj Omar Driss in one swallow (well, there were bits of sunlight creeping down in-between the clouds, but I prefer my eerie descriptions). I knew what to expect today instead of being thrown in with a bunch of alienated strangers, and classes weren't as boring as yesterday. I actually found myself listening somewhat and trying to take a few notes—in shorthand even, which is something I've deliberately never learned how to do, but have somewhat of a gist of it. The Hungarian girl finally confessed to me that she indeed did enjoy stalking and that it was one of the most prominent of her many unusual hobbies. That in itself planed a seed of acquaintanceship that would bloom into something resembling a flower of friendship. When Mr. Edelstein asked me a question pertaining to the history of Belarus even though I hadn't raised my hand for that particular question, I answered correctly, much to everyone's surprise. Physical education was even the least bit enjoyable, as we all got to experiment with fencing sabre. But the exceptionally best part of that day, hands down? Eduard Grullon wasn't in school today.

Before lunch, I was absolutely dreading the rest of the day, especially the hours when lunch and biology would roll by—grueling hours that I honestly could not stand, at all. I wanted nothing to do with the Grullon family, and I especially wanted nothing to do with Eduard. I convinced myself that if I were to see that handsome, inhumane, vampire-esque creature again, I would claw out his eyeballs and watch him bleed whilst laughing maniacally to myself.

But when I walked into the cafeteria with my new best friend, that Hungarian girl, whose name is Lizzy, I think—droning out her constant talk about one of the teachers, whose last name began with an "E"—I saw that the Grullons were all sitting at the same exact table as before. Except, that is, for Eduard.

Naturally, that caused me to smile, and I could have very well started jumping up and down with such uncontained excitement my head would have exploded. But before any of that could happen, Mark chanced upon us and practically dragged us to his table, Lizzy's friends immediately following her when they noticed we were to be sitting somewhere else today. I made no attempt to listen to them at all, anxiously waiting for Eduard to show up, just in case, so my excitement wouldn't be for naughty. I hoped, for once, that my inconspicuous suspicions of Eduard possibly being at school but just somewhere else right now were false. I even began to pray.

Fortunately, my prayers were answered congenially, for the seconds passed by, and I grew more and more relaxed that Eduard was definitely absent today.

I walked to my biology class with newfound happiness, something I've never really found myself exhibiting much, and I noticed that my table was empty. No Eduard. No Eduard Grullon. Mark, of course, was walking by my side like a pathetically loyal stray dog, panting and flirting like there was no tomorrow. His actions, to me, proved to be more annoying that friendly. I had hoped that he would have given up on me by now, especially noting the fact that I blatantly ignore him and have only responded to him one or two times, but it seems that he is not one that can easily read the atmosphere. That didn't bother me though. The very fact that Eduard Grullon wasn't here today, in itself, was able to make me in an uncharacteristically good mood today. That's all that counted.

I really, really enjoyed having a table by myself without being tense by my desk partner's hostile glares. Eduard was absent. I told myself that repeatedly, frequently, in my head, to reassure myself of its authenticity. It was hard holding in the mirth surging throughout my body; I couldn't stop laughing that it was the whole truth and nothing but it, that Eduard wasn't here. That was practically the only thing that was on my mind.

When the rather soothing day was done, and I stabbed a couple of students in the eye with my bloodied fencing sabre and got away with it by saying it was all an accident, I changed back as slowly as I could into one of my other gothic lolita-inspired dresses, of which some girls started to follow, thinking of it as a new trend. Afterwards, I walked back home with the most casual stride, a small smirk on my lips.

Along the way (in the parking lot), I saw the Grullons and the Fales getting into some rather expensive-looking cars. One was red, the other silver. I might have not taken too much mind to them if not for the ways they stared at me. Most of them seemed pretty happy considering their smiles, except for that one girl… Rosella was her name.

I shrugged that awkward moment away and returned to my walk, finally reaching Toris's house. It was just last night when I discovered that Toris could cook practically anything you told him. That was good considering I was not exactly the best cook out there, but he did designate me the job to clobber the annoying gophers that happened to pop out from the ground in our back yard. I liked my job very much. I even earned a bit of money by doing so, which I probably may need in the future if I accumulate enough. Toris even willingly gave me a copy of the house key, much to my increasing happiness. And, when I came back home, there was already my supper, sitting there on the table, warm steam emitting from the food.

Life was a lot better in Bordj Omar Driss than I thought. This, I knew, wouldn't last. No. I didn't fully believe that Eduard would be absent from school for the rest of my life, just because of me. He would be back in a few weeks, and I would be back in my own hellish world.

Before that could happen, I decided to buy some groceries to help Toris a bit. It wasn't as if he asked me; this was all my doing, thoughtful or not. I wasn't exactly happy about being a burden to him, so buying the groceries could help him out. He did, after all, make my life a lot better. Living with my mother-figure was torturous. The only thing I really hated now in Bordj Omar Driss was… Eduard. Whom, of which, I need to stop thinking about.

The market wasn't far away from the school for Toris's house. Honestly, I've never been inside any kind of supermarket before, as my mother-figure usually was the one who did all the shopping. Thus, I felt like a total stranger, not knowing which brands to buy or what exactly to buy, as a matter of fact. That was when I realized I didn't have any money on me, which made me leave in the immediate, slightly embarrassed by my sudden epiphany.

When I got back home, I flew up the flight of stairs empty-handed and looked through whatever homework I had. In my room, in the lone corner, I found that there was a shiny new laptop: a smooth, pearly laptop with an apple logo on it. Attached was a note from Toris, which read something along the lines of, _"Happy early birthday, Bells_". My birthday was a few months back, so this must have been from a long time ago. My sign of gratification was a smile, warm smile, something uncharacteristic concerning me, but the fact that Toris would buy me something expensive even though I've always openly hated Bordj Omar Driss—it was heartwarming, to say the least.

I booted up my new laptop and immediately logged onto my e-mail, even though I never exactly used it too often. I already had three messages, all from the same person: my mother-figure.

"Bella," my mother-figure wrote, much to my dismay, and I was tempted to verbally correct her even though I knew she wouldn't be able to hear me. The rest of the message went…

_Like, hi sweetie! Write to me ASAP and tell me all the totes juicy details, 'kay? Miss you already sweetie! Oh, and like, by the way, have you seen my favorite pink skirt? I can't like, find it anywhere, and it's totes bothering me… Love, Mom. _❤

_P.S. Tell Liet I like, said hi._

No, I thought lamely, going onto the next message. My mother-figure sent this one to me only a few minutes after the first one.

"Bell-Bell," she wrote, which I'm not sure whether or not is better than "Bella," but whatever the case, I found myself sighing.

_OMG! Did something like, happen sweetie? Why haven't you e-mailed yet? OMG, I hope you're like, okay! If something happened to you, I would totally like, make Liet kill them and lock them away and stuff. Love, Mom. _❤

The last one my mother-figure sent was just a few seconds ago.

_Natalia Lorinaitis.  
If you don't like, talk to me soon, I'm flying over there and like, talking to Liet and everything. Love, Mom. _❤

That caused me to freak out, and so I clicked on the reply button and began to frantically type a brief response to make it so my mother-figure did _not_ fly to Bordj Omar Driss, because we most certainly do not need him here. It didn't take me long to compose a message, but before I could even think about clicking on the send button, I heard a small click and a chat screen popped up, a short message on the screen.

**feliksTHEcat says:  
**heey sweetie! sup

I would probably have ignored that, but the threat of my mother-figure flying all the way from Russia to here was something I couldn't chance. So, I began typing a short, brief message, just so my mother-figure could leave me alone.

**Natalia says:  
**Nothing. Need to work on homework. Bye.

**feliksTHEcat says:  
**kk bella! say hi to liet for me! like, baibai! :)

_Like I would._

I had decided to read _The Scarlet Pimpernel_, as it was the only novel I had right now. What we were studying in English class was something along the lines of Anne Rice's works, or possibly Bram Stoker, but all I remember is that it had something to do with vampires. Ironically, it is that very vampire that I was trying to rid my mind of. I wouldn't see him for a while, hopefully, so I should not be thinking about him at all. No. I shouldn't.

When I was reading the part about Chauvelin's "either—or," I heard Toris pulling into the driveway, and immediately he was inside the house, calling out my name. I rushed downstairs to greet him with a tentative handshake and even a small peck on the cheek, and he smiled at me warmly, ruffling the top of my head.

"What do you want for dinner?" he asked warily, tired from his job, I could tell. Some form of minimal pity washed over my face, and I nodded my head. It seemed he took it as a show of disappointment, for he started to freak out, much to my annoyance.

"Anything," I replied a few minutes later, which seemed to have calmed Toris down a bit, glad of my general answer. He would cook his favorite dish now, and his favorite dish just so-happened to be a pretty easy thing to cook.

I returned upstairs to complete small snippets of my homework, staring at the screen of my laptop for the longest time. I realized that my mother-figure was still online, though she was set as "busy," which I found ironic as he never really was a busy kind of person. My mother-figure had no job, yet found it in no way difficult to live off of nothing for years, and years to come. There must have been some secret magic my mother-figure was using to stay alive without even having to work, but whatever the case, the fact that my mother-figure was "busy" had me intrigued.

Though, before I could even further dwell on the thought, Toris called me down for dinner, and I rushed downstairs into the kitchen. Inside, the kitchen smelled of something good—a sweet scent, tickling my nostrils, my taste buds, my eyes. It was a much better aroma than the supper he had cooked for me a few hours earlier, and I was very appreciative of the fact, even when I found that I was not the least bit hungry.

We ate in silence for what seemed like hours, him staring at me a few times awkwardly, and me concentrating on my food. It was then when the quiet moments were too tense that Toris began to speak, his voice a bit cheerier and happier than before, even when his expression was trite from overwork.

"Is school okay so far, Bells?" he asked, a careful nod to conversation.

"It's okay," I replied after swallowing a mouthful of my dinner. "There are some people I find… bearable. Like Lizzy, Madeline, Gilbo. Then there are the people I can't stand. Like Mark." I said this in disdain, and he gave out a wholehearted chuckle.

"Mark? His name is actually Mathias Køhler, but he goes by Mark 'cause everyone pronounces his name wrong. And plus, he's from Den_mark_." I groaned at the irony of it again; I knew people noticed that, too, but just hearing it again made me want to puke. "Kind of a weird kid. Family… kinda rough, too. His dad owns the local bar, and he makes a pretty good living off of all the alcohol he sells. A lot of people are obsessed with it. Especially the Grullons."

"The… Grullons…" I said hesitantly, almost achingly, and Toris unfortunately took it as a question.

"Oh, do you know them? Dr. Grullon's family?" He sighed in scared admiration. "Dr. Grullon is a wonderful man, just a little bit intimidating at times. He sure is young though, and his wife especially. What a beauty." He shifted his eyes wearily, which reminded me much of how the Hungarian's expression turned upon talking about Dr. Grullon's enigmatic and mysterious wife. Everyone seems to be so secretive about this "wife" character.

"His kids are vampires," I stated plainly, playing with the last remnants of my food. He stared at me for the longest time before beginning to have a short laughing fit, ruffling my hair from across the table, and bumping the salt shaker whilst doing so. Bad luck.

"Nonsense! Dr. Grullon is the most amazing doctor you could lay your eyes on. He could work in any hospital in the world, making a million times more than he does, yet he lives here. I suppose their family is rich enough already, but still, I find it a blessing for such a nice and spectacular doctor such as Dr. Grullon to help us out here. We need it," he continued, becoming more and more stentorian, as well as excited and informational, much like everyone else was. Now I'm truly convinced that this municipality sells a documentary about the Grullons. "Honestly, they scared me the first time I saw them move here, a few years back. They had so many adopted children, and teenagers nonetheless! You really don't see that every day! They're all mature, though, and beautiful. Definitely beautiful. I haven't caught them doing anything illegal so far, which is saying a lot considering this era's population of kids are quite the troublemakers. They're just like a family too, sticking together as one, even taking trips down to the beach every so often." He pursed his lips, his eyes moving towards a picture frame hanging loosely on one of the kitchen walls. I knew it was a picture of him and my mother-figure.

Toris usually talked a lot, but never in my life have I heard him talk _this_ much. It was a lot longer than one of the speeches my English teacher would make, and that is definitely saying a lot. Mr. Edelstein talked way too much when it came to the matter of literature and whatnot.

"They're pretty, but they're vampires, believe me," I tried to convince Toris, who just looked at me with an amused grin on his face.

"Like I said, nonsense! And if you think the children are pretty, you should see Dr. Grullon and his… wife." Shifty eyes. "If he wasn't married, every man and woman and their dogs would be on his back, begging for the doctor to take them! It's absolutely blasphemous, if you ask me."

"I didn't."

"Oh."

And then we were back to our momentary silence as we finished the rest of our food, which, by that time, only consisted of a few scraps of meat here and there. Toris said he would do all the dishes, and so I was left to finishing whatever homework I had left. He, of course, went to the living room and started watching some television. From what I could hear, it was some melodramatic soap opera, something he probably gained from living with my mother-figure for so long.

I was able to sleep peacefully, but somewhat anxious too, for I definitely did not want to see Eduard again. I hoped he wasn't at school tomorrow, or the rest of the school year, but that would be irrational.

The rest of the week was really boring, with nothing to do, nothing exciting to do—just like how an average, mundane school life would be. I knew where all my classes were now, and by now, I had memorized most of Lizzy's friends, as well as Mark's, even though I really could care less.

I was happy, though. Eduard Grullon didn't come back to school for the rest of the week.

Every single day, I internally celebrated upon realizing that the obvious-vampire-creature Eduard was absent, again and again, for what seemed like the longest time. The rest of the Grullon family—his siblings—of course showed up, without him, but that didn't affect them much. They were all still beautiful, still graceful, without their fifth wheel. Sometimes, it seemed that such a person as Eduard hadn't even existed, but I knew that wasn't true, for the cold glares he gave me were burned forever in my thoughts, something permanent.

Everything quickly became habitual by Friday. Biology class felt safer, more secure, without Eduard glaring at me. He probably dropped out of school, moved to Alaska by now, without his family. He was old enough; he would be able to support himself.

Naturally, my first week at Bordj Omar Driss went pretty smoothly. Toris was gentle, caring, as a proper father should, spending a bit of time with me, though not much thanks to the grueling hours of his labor. Life for me was mildly productive, as I cleaned, I finished my homework, and I started taking a small interest in fencing and planting flowers, something I wasn't able to do in the frigid temperatures of the subarctic Russian territory.

Eventually, people came to know me and greeted me respectfully as I passed by. While I normally would have liked for them to fear me, I figured this would be okay, as it would make my revenge a whole lot easier if one would provoke me, as their being nice and my being nice would make them put their guard down. We had a few quizzes in our classes, more in English than in any other class. I passed most of them, though, and my grades thus far are steady B's, sometimes fluctuating between A's and C's, but almost constantly B's.

The comfort level of my being here in Bordj Omar Driss was totally unexpected. If anything, I would have expected a disaster. This was not the case, especially considering a hostile vampire was out of the picture. Now someone just had to do something with the other rancor-filled vampire, the one named Rosalie, and maybe just wipe out the rest of the vampire family in the process. That would make my living in Bordj Omar Driss all the more better.

It was on one day that the skies grew dank, cold, dismal. Grey. And, the clouds began to produce little tidbits of white fluffiness: snow. Falling in one of the sunniest places on earth. This brought upon a disheartened feeling of nostalgia in my heart, and I found myself smiling softly even despite the horrible memories I have shared with the snow, commonly pertaining to my mother-figure's idiocy with snow.

"I can't believe it," Mark gasped beside me, staring up into the sky, a single snowflake gently falling on his eyelashes. "It's snowing! It really is!"

He sure is good with the matters of observations. "It reminds me of Russia."

He gave me a shocked stare, something of interest and surprise, and grinned widely—toothy, as always, sparkling and shining with pearly whites. "You used to live in Russia?"

"Yes. I grew up there." That's what I told him a few days back, but it seems he forgot. I don't blame him much. I suppose my voice can become overshadowed by stronger, louder voices at times. "It's weird. I didn't think there would be snow here."

"There usually isn't," he stated in a matter-of-fact way, arms akimbo, his nose turning slightly red. He grinned. "This is my only my second time seeing snow. The first time was when I was only three."

"Same here." I paused. "Three and a half."

Mark laughed bemusedly, and then, all of a sudden, without so much as a warning, something white hit the back of his head. A snowball, dripping slowly down his back. He shivered slightly, and we both turned around, frantically searching for whoever produced the deadly weapon of mass destruction. I had my suspicions on that one crazy, demented, narcissistic, and troublemaking albino. Surely enough, it was the albino, who looked very much like a snow rabbit against the whiteness of the snow. Beside him was the tentative Canadian girl, Madeline, who was clutching on to the albino's free arm like it was her only support. Whilst I was staring at the duo, who seemed so perfect in the snow, I heard Mark creating his own weapon of mass destruction and aimed it carefully for the albino's head. He missed.

"Umm, bye," I said, walking inside as I spoke. "I don't like immaturity." This, I found, was caused by my mother-figure's insolently childish behavior, of which I was forced to stand for years. I grew tired of his immaturity, so Toris's opposite nature was a definite plus in living here, in Bordj Omar Driss.

He gawked at me, but before he could even say anything, another weapon of mass destruction landed perfectly on his face with a huge _splat_!

Everyone was talking about the snow like it was some sort of sacred relic of some sort, like no one had seen it before. Of course, that was only natural for a sunny place such as this. It seemed like I was the only one unaffected by such things. Then again, I was not the most talkative type in the world, so I suppose that's partly due to my taciturn nature.

Lunch was dreadful. Mark followed closely behind me, laughing with tears of joy staining his reddish cheeks. Lizzy was already pulling me down to our table, chattering away, mostly concerning the snow and a bit of the school's popular gossip here and there, and that's when I realized the Grullon table had _five_ separate entities circling around their respected table again. Eduard was back. After all this time, he was _back_.

Lizzy tugged at my arm after she realized I was staring at the Grullons, and she smirked in satisfactory, sending me a hopeful stare that glowed with mischievous intent.

"Bel! Do you… _like_ him? Eduard, I mean?" Her voice was in sing-song fashion, high-pitched, and very annoying. I wanted to punch her pretty face then and there. I would have, too, if not for the fact my body was frozen in spot from my sudden realization of Eduard being _back_.

"What's wrong with Bel?" Mark asked Lizzy, who just smirked in response, wrapping an arm around my neck, much like how she did in during the first day we had met.

Before I could answer Mark's question, Lizzy began poking my cheek, smiling. "I think our little Bel here is in love!" And, at that proclamation, I growled and pushed her arm off around me, sighing angrily.

"I don't like anyone," I said plainly, dangerously. I could feel my face grow unnecessarily hot. Whether or not it was from embarrassment or cholera or both, I know not, but the fact remained that I looked much like a tomato. Mark constantly asked me if I was alright, genuine concern in his eyes, and I kept telling him I wasn't, but the reasoning behind my words were never explained. I doubt I could have explained them. Well, maybe I could have, but just thinking about the very source of my illness made everything all the more worse.

Though my mind was telling me not to, I decided to steal a short glance towards the Grullon table, just to see if Eduard was still in a cranky, rancor mood. He wasn't, however, much to my surprise. They were all laughing (except for one Rosella, whom of which was scowling with petulant annoyance, and whose face was as red as a rose, for lack of a better descriptor) wholeheartedly. Eduard, Gasper, and Emma all had their hair in a perfect mess, damp and dark from the melted snow. Alicia was laughing as Emma was shaking her hair like crazy, little droplets of melted snow splattering across their table. Rosella looked on in disgust, though it seemed that she was in a much nicer mood than usual. Even on such a miraculous day, the intimidating Grullon family were all enjoying the wonders of snow. The only difference they had from everyone else was the sole fact they made the snow look beautiful on them, modeling the white substance perfectly.

The Grullons looked different, though, especially Eduard. They all looked more animated, filled with more vitality, more youthful. It may have just been the snow that made them look younger, even when they all still had dark circles under their eyes, which were a lot less noticeable than before. And their skin, though still an eerie alabaster, seemed to glow a lot more, much like the usual sunshine in this little municipality.

"See, she's even staring at him!" Lizzy made a noise of heartfelt affection, a noise that was something along the lines of "awww". Her eyes were probing me with further insight, maybe even a ruthful response, but nothing came from my mouth. It seemed as if I was too intoxicated with the perpetual beauty of the Grullons, and I couldn't concentrate. I couldn't take my eyes off of them, even when Lizzy began to poke my left cheek, much to my irritation. You just can't help but stare at such perfection. You just can't help but stare at those cold, cold vampires.

And then, it was at that moment when Eduard's eyes darted away from his siblings and locked on my violet ones. I thought of looking away, but instead of the hostile expression he gave me just a few days back, he just looked really intrigued, much like the first day at lunchtime. I then quickly assumed he was bipolar and mentally noted that on my mental note board.

"Oh my gosh, Eduard Grullon is staring at you, Bel," Lizzy muttered in disbelief, giggling softly, but at the same time gawking. And it was true: he was staring at me, and I couldn't help but stare back at those curious blue orbs, a sea of mysteries that were only a grasp away.

"I thought he hated me," I said, originally meant as a mutter, but Lizzy heard me anyway.

She blinked at me, then smiled. "Nah. I don't think so. I think he likes you, Bel. I think you're finally the girl he's been looking for!" She was so ecstatic, her hyperactivity rubbed off on me, and I began to smile. _Smile_. It wasn't for Eduard though, but it seemed like he took it that way. "The Grullons usually don't like anyone outside their family, but one of them is actually staring at you. The only _single_ one, fancy that!"

"I get it," I mouthed, glaring at her. She only snickered thoughtfully, looking away from the Grullons and returning to whatever the rest of our table was talking about. The rest of the lunch, I was looking down on my empty lunch tray, trying to avoid as much eye contact with anyone as possible.

Unfortunately, after lunch, even though I wanted so much as to avoid Mark today and walk to my next class by myself, he suddenly jerked his arm forward and snatched mine in his, walking steadily outside. Once outside, everyone seemed to groan sadly at the same time, as it began to rain, melting all the remaining snow on the pavements. It was a lot warmer, closer to humid, and completely unbearable.

Of course, Mark being Mark, he began to whine and flail (much like how my mother-figure would have reacted in a similar situation) about the sudden change from snow to rain, up until we finally reached our next class. Our next class was, of course, biology. It just _had_ to be biology.

When I walked hesitantly in class, only to trip inside thanks to Mark pushing me, I found that my table was still empty. It was a good sign; maybe Eduard had left early, and I would be all alone in my wonderful solitude. That's never the case when it comes to these circumstances, however. Inconveniences always manage to pop up. He is my main inconvenience concerning the entirety of life in general.

It was then when I was silently concentrating on my notes, attempting to study at the last minute for a possible pop quiz, I heard a musical serenade whisper in my ears, beautifully, like an orchestrated musical, full of violins and winds and legatos. "Halloo there."

My mind was in an amalgam of confused questions. Why was he talking to me? Why was he smiling at me, when just a few days back he was frowning and glaring at me? Why were his eyes suddenly a lot clearer, a lot nicer, a lot bluer?

He must have noticed my confusion but said nothing of it, only opening his mouth to introduce himself properly, his peculiar and antique-sounding tone of voice still intact. "Halloo," he reiterated. "Minu nimi on Eduard." When he noticed my confused look, he laughed, his acute cheeks flashing with bubbly pink. "Excuse me! I mistook you for an Estonian. You look like one." A smile, a wink. "I am Eduard Grullon, and you… you are Bel Lorinaitis, am I correct?"

"How… do you know my name?" This came out as a hesitant, tentative stammer, a clash of meek words forming into a quiet string that could hardly be labeled as a sentence. Even then, he just laughed, a slow ritardando of strings.

"Everyone knows your name, Bel. You were the talk of the town even before you came here."

"No that," I interjected rashly, nodding my head. "Bel. How do you know I go by Bel?"

He looked at me with an expression of mixed confusion and wonder. "Would you prefer Natalia? Maybe Nat?"

"No, Bel is fine," I said, exasperatedly. "But no one knows my nickname until I tell them."

"Oh." He looked thoughtfully at me, his glasses reflecting off of the single light bulb above us, glowing and blinking with a luminosity that rivaled the sun. "Why do you go by Bel then, when your name is Natalia?"

"Long story." Typically, I'd rather not explain, but it must have been the first time someone actually had the guys to ask me why. It was as if asking the etymology of my nickname would bring grave consequences upon them, which usually is not the case, unless they just so-happened to provoke me even longer. Nonetheless, I was not in a talkative mood. Eduard was already confusing me; my head was in too much of a jumble; I couldn't concentrate at all.

"Please enlighten me," he said, smiling, a dazzling, beautiful white smile. "Bel."

I sighed, defeated by his probing eyes and smile. "My older brother gave it to me."

"Why?"

"It was snowing. Then he looked at me and told me I was as pretty and innocent and fragile as snow. Snow is white. Bel means white in Russian."

"Ah, really!" He laughed, very much amused. "I agree with your brother, though. You really are as pretty as snow. Like… Snow White." He smiled at that, and said nothing more when I remained silent despite his rather nice commentary. I suppose I never exactly realized the connection of my name to Snow White, but it was a really nice connection. My brother always had told me fairy tales before I fell asleep, and it seemed that he oftentimes told me the story of Snow White. In Russian, usually when it's snowing considerably gently.

A few seconds later, the teacher finally began his lesson on organic molecules. Our group project was easy, but the unnerving part of it all was the fact that Eduard was staring at me the entire time, almost endearingly. And, even though I knew he wasn't concentrating as much as he could have, we were still the first group to be finished with the assignment. From the corner of my eye, I could see his handwriting, as beautiful and elegant as he was. I noted his eyes were a different and lighter shade of blue then from what I remembered on the first day, which were exceptionally dark and caliginous.

The teacher, Mr. Vargas, walked up to our table and examined our completed project with much suspicion. "Did Natalia help you at all, Mr. Grullon?"

"Bel," he corrected almost instantaneously, nodding towards my direction. "She identified half of the molecules, sir."

Mr. Vargas looked at me, suspicions having cleared, and smiled thoughtfully. "Excellent. I presume you are of high ranks in the sciences, yes? At least, from what I've seen."

"More or less," I mumbled, and the two bellowed out in a fit of laughter. I continued to stare nonchalantly, my hands becoming clammy and sweaty and nervous for some unknown reason. Mr. Vargas then left us alone after a while to check up on the progress of the rest of the class, and I remained still, looking down on the blackness of the table, staring at my reflection. I looked red.

"It's too bad about the snow, right, Bel?" Eduard asked me, staring outside thoughtfully. He returned his attention towards my direction, an eyebrow peculiarly rising upwards in wonder.

"Yes. I miss the snow," I said, more like a quiet whisper than anything. Still, he was able to hear me perfectly, and he began stating that he did too. That caused me to quirk my own eyebrow in curiosity, though I decided not to ask him what he exactly meant by that. That could be for another day.

"You used to live in Russia," he stated in a matter-of-fact way. It wasn't a question.

"I grew up there," I said to my surprise. I hadn't exactly conversed with people much, and I usually stayed quiet whenever someone tried to talk to me. But there was something in the way he looked at me that caused me to melt on the spot, something that provoked me to talk and do his bidding. That, of course, further helped me prove that Eduard Grullon was, indeed, a vampire. Vampires are very convincing, after all. "I don't like the sun much."

"This must be horrible then, to live in such a sunny place. It is almost always sunny here," he said thoughtfully. He looked at me with such fascination, his light blue eyes glowing with childish curiosity. "Why did you move here, of all places, Bel?"

"Long story."

He rolled his eyes as if to say "déjà vu much?" and I found myself sighing again, succumbing to his unsaid and voluptuous wishes.

"My parents got divorced," I said, groaning when he told me he wanted me to expand on the thought. He sounded like Mr. Edelstein then and there, who always demanded the student to expand on their thoughts, giving more insight and commentary on our individual musings. "A few months ago. I don't know why. They started fighting a lot. Then they just left each other."

"Why did you move with your father?"

"My mother is… he doesn't have a job. They both thought that it would be better if I lived with Toris for now. He's able to support me."

"Your parents… are both… men?" He asked this with a hint of confusion, yet at the same time, it seemed like he knew what the feeling was like.

"Yes. I am adopted, much like you are," I said carefully, not minding that it sounded the least bit stalker-ish. He didn't seem to notice that fact and instead opted for a smile of both pity and understanding.

"I'm sorry. If it makes you feel any better, I was alone until I was seventeen."

"How old are you now?" I asked suspiciously.

"Seventeen," he said, laughing softly. He then looked at me straight in the eyes, his blue eyes dancing with mirth and merriment. "It is fine, that your parents are both men. My parents are both men, too."

"Is… that so?" That was why everyone seemed to look a bit too suspicious on the mention of Dr. Grullon's "wife," because that supposed wife figure was a man. And apparently, Eduard knew exactly how it felt like to be an orphan, to be with homosexual parents, to be in a life where no one else could truly understand.

He looked at me straight in the eyes, his deep blues crashing waves of excitement on my purple orbs. More and more, it felt as if Eduard and I had more in common than what I would have originally thought. And, this was only the beginning. I wasn't sure if that would be a good thing or a bad thing, but whatever the case, my feelings and former spite towards Eduard was misplaced—unfair. He was bearable—a lot more bearable then people of the likes of Mark—and he was understanding. He knew what it was like to be an orphan, to have older siblings and to feel inferior to them (well, assuming he is the youngest), to have parents that are homosexual. He knew what it was like to be me, and I knew what it was like to be him. It went hand in hand, almost like a jigsaw puzzle, and for that, I was surprisingly glad that we became friends instead of staying enemies like a few days earlier.

"Yes, but they both love each other, which is what counts." He nodded proudly, mentally admiring his parents' relationship, I could tell. "Besides, it is not like my parents are the only homosexual couple in our family." I knew he was referring to the much-talked-about relationship between Emma and Rosella, but I said nothing about them. He, too, dropped the subject there and suddenly said, "You know, Bel… You are very hard to read. I cannot tell what you are thinking, ever."

"Unless you're a mind reader, I doubt you could," I said softly. At that moment, the bell rang, and Eduard stole one last glance at me, smiling whilst doing so, and rushed elegantly out of the room, much like the first day. I stared back in hidden amazement.

Mark, out of habit, walked up to my side, fawning over my and throwing down every single comment he had in his arsenal. More flirting. Great. But, when he began to talk about my lap partner—Eduard—his tone darkened to the point of eminent violence. "Grullon was pretty fuckin'… nice today, I guess." His voice was despondent, weary. Jealous.

The last class, gym, went by fast. All I could think about was Eduard and his sudden change in attitude towards me, as well as the fact that he seemed to look different. I knew he was a vampire and all, but while some facts supported this, some just didn't seem to live up to the requirements of a vampire. The main one, I began to note, was the fact that the Grullon family leaved in one of the sunniest places on earth. It didn't seem like they were affected by it at all, which is just too uncanny and too suspiciously weird not to realize.

I left gym in a hurried daze, walking outside, only to be welcomed by small droplets of rain. The rush of rain had slightly gone down and was only a gentle sprinkle.

When I was outside, I noticed a tall, erect figure standing under the rain, perfect in every way possible. It was Eduard Grullon who was currently standing next to a very fancy and expensive-looking car. It was the shade of the shadows. Next to him were the other Grullon family's cars, all adjacent to each other in a marvelous display of royalty, much like a museum. They were all laughing. At what, I know not, but they were all laughing (except for, typically, Rosella, who was frowning as usual). But, from what I could see, Eduard was inconspicuously staring at me with half-lidded eyes, and all I did in response was rush back to Toris's place, feeling the gentle rhythm of rain on my heated, flushed face.


	4. 3: DENIALISM

**3. DENIALISM**

When my eyelashes fluttered open, my eyes lazily taking in my surroundings, I realized that something was oddly different today. I wasn't sure what it was, but I just knew that, then and there, something was misplaced, odd. Something wasn't in its correct place, in its correct niche.

I hopped off of my bed and looked out my window with groggy eyes, happy to see a fresh blanket of snow around the entirety of the ground—a blank sheet of pure, lily-white alabaster. I could even see a bit of snow having accumulated overnight on my window pane. Carefully, I opened the window just slightly and gingerly pressed a finger against the soft snow. It wasn't crunchy yet; it was fresh, just fallen, probably a few hours ago.

Along with the cover of snow, the rain from yesterday had frozen around, leaving remnants of icicles across trees and houses, sharp and ready to impale upon someone's sporadic death. I smiled at the rather macabre, pessimistic thought. I suppose the average human would think of the icicles as a cold beauty instead of some horribly sharp object ready to kill. But at the immediate I saw them, that was what I thought.

Toris was already inexistence in the house, having left for work earlier than usual. That's what I found out when I walked downstairs, finding my breakfast sitting on the table, still slightly warm. I scarfed down my food as quick and possible and made myself get ready for the day to come. Naturally, it did not take long, as the only thing I had to do was brush my teeth, comb my hair, put on clothes, and gather my belongings. My mother-figure always took two hours or more to get ready for the simplest occasions. I refuse to be anything like him.

Part of my quickness in getting ready today, however, involved a certain congenial vampire by the name of Eduard Grullon. I was anxious to see him, eager almost, and that very fact sent me in another amalgam of confusion. I barely knew him, yet I wanted to see him. He was hostile to me on the first day, yet I wanted to talk to him. He was a vampire, yet I found myself being attracted to such a bloodthirsty creature. Though, I suppose I am a bloodthirsty creature, too, killing for the sole reason of entertainment, laughing at the torture and spilt blood of others. If that is not being bloodthirsty, then I don't know what is.

Walking to school was a huge pain. The fact that trudging along the snow wasn't as difficult for me, as I would surely be used to it by now, having lived in the subarctic Russia for so long. But, unfortunately, the streets were flooded in melted snow, and when a car happened to rush by, I would get soaked with water from head to toe. That was definitely how I wanted to spend my mornings, being soaked in freezing temperatures in only a gothic lolita dress, a matching parka, snow boots, and my ribbon. My favorite ribbon, as a matter of fact.

My pace was a bit too frantic, though, and I could only blame Eduard Grullon for this. If maybe I hadn't met him in his everlasting spectacular beauty, I would not be so eager as to see his perfection. But no. He just had to show up and be all amazing in front of me, in front of everyone, with that dazzling white smile, and those alluring blue orbs, and those voluptuous and salacious lips. I tried to rid any thoughts of the vampire from my mind by thinking of the other people in my life, which lead to me thinking of Mark and Lizzy. They were the friendliest people to me, a weird change from my Russian peers, whom of which expressed their fear of me openly and flaccidly through feigned afflictions and screams. Though Mark was annoying at times, I did find him to be a somewhat good friend, helping me when I really need it and being friendly with me (and really, only me, as I have perceived from his bad talk of other people). Lizzy, of course, could easily be labeled as my best friend, as I can talk to her easily and we share quite a few hobbies with each other. The one we both like the most is, of course, stalking.

After a few more minutes of walking, I finally saw the school, just a few feet away. My pace began to quicken exceptionally, and I could have very well out-walked a cheetah by the swiftness of my steps. However, it was at that moment when I heard a large screech to my right, stopping me dead in my tracks. Almost literally, too. Almost.

A large truck was veering towards my direction, completely out of control. I wanted so much to move, for the adrenaline to kick into my body, but for some reason none of that happened. Rather, it was the opposite. I didn't move. I couldn't move, no matter how hard I tried. The only thing I could do was stare stupidly at the moving car, about to crash into me in slow, prolonged movements, like I was watching a three-dimensional movie slowed down to only a frame per second. I could see every detail clearly. I could recount every detail clearly. I could also recount that I was slightly scared of the impact of the car. While I could stand being poked by a million knives, I was quite queasy about having a car crash into me. A rabid car, especially, out of control, out of place, out of everything…

From the corner of my eye, I could see Eduard Grullon loitering around twenty feet away from me, staring at me with horror-filled eyes. His fear was easy to see, easy to feel. I knew it reflected my own.

Just before I anticipated the pain of being crushed by a car, I felt a different sort of impact against my body from a direction that seemed too illogical to be from a car. The impact was still hard, painful, and my head landed against the cold, snowy pavement—landed hard. I felt like blacking out, but a part of me was still partly conscious, still having a weak hold on reality.

Someone was beside me, that much I knew. Who that person was, I know not, but I knew that person was a man from his body shape. He moved his hands in front of me, and then they suddenly pushed against the car, making a large dent into it—an inhumanely behemoth dent, right there, in the side of the car, in the shape of an enormous hand.

His hands began to move again, faster this time, something my eyes couldn't keep up with. I was suddenly being moved around much like I was some sort of porcelain doll, with careful care of my fragility. Only one part of me hurt right now, and it was pulsating mildly somewhere in my cerebral region.

Then—a scream. It wasn't from me, though. It was from a girl. The voice, I noticed, was from Lizzy. This was followed by a chorus of numerous other screams, each one followed by another one, until it was an amalgam of terror. But, even through all this stentorian ruckus, I could hear a soft whisper in my ear. Eduard Grullon's voice, low and husky and worried.

"Bel?" he asked in slight panic, slightly nudging my shoulder. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," I said, though my voice seemed to disapprove of my words. It was weak and hoarse. But, it only took a second of silence before I noticed he was holding me against his body, his grasp resembling that of a metal crusher.

"Don't get killed," he scolded me like a panicked mother, petulant and worried at the same time. He then tightened his grip around me, afraid to let go in case another danger impaled itself on me. "Your head. I know it hurts."

"Obviously," I said weakly yet with an equally crude, sarcastic effect, my eyes rolling on its own.

"Oh, what am I to do with you, Bel?" His gentle and suave voice was practically mocking me, his lips tightened but quaking with restrained laughter. I could only stare at him in disbelief; I thought I was the only one who found entertainment in near-death experiences. Lo and behold, my assumptions were proved wrong, and not just by anyone, but a vampire.

I leered at him carefully, noting the inhumanity of his superhuman speed to reach me in time, and making sure I knew it was obvious he was indeed not normal. "I am not dumb. You were at the other side of the parking lot," I said, my eyes narrowing even further. "Now you're here, and it only took you a few seconds. That is impossible for a normal…" I trailed off abruptly when I saw him smirk at me—something of satisfaction yet at the same time of worry.

"I suppose I am not exactly normal, per se," he said to me quietly, amusedly, much to my spite. I scowled at him; he was playing head games with me, and his intent was too obvious not to notice.

It was at that moment, when I stood up, slightly dazed from having hit my head and possibly fracturing my skull, that Eduard craned his head towards mine. The closeness of our faces were surreal, intoxicating. He stared at me briefly, knocking our foreheads together in a heated moment of short passion, and quickly unwrapped his arms from my quivering waist. His bemused expression reverted to that of genuine concern, and I found myself catching my own breathe. Did he actually care about someone like me, someone who's blatantly rude and crude to the entirety of the world…?

Before I could further fathom my question, a plethora of bodies jounced upon us in a cold dog pile. Everything was chaotic, with people hugging me, stentorian shouts, expletives ejaculated in the utmost choleric manner. It was all too much, and my dizzy head started to grow wearier by the minute.

"Stay right there, Bel, and don't move an inch. You hear me?" I couldn't comprehend whose voice that was as my thought process was beginning to fog up, but from the bone-crushing hug, I assumed the person to be Lizzy.

"Hey, where did that bastardous Sadik go? That coward!" Another yell, from the opposite direction. Then, a hasty scuffle of various feet, all at once, against the crunchy white snow, in a discordant rhythm that messed with my mind.

I wanted to get up, stand up, push against everyone, just to prove that I was still capable of living, even if my head was slightly dizzy and pained. But, a cold hand on my shoulder forced me to stay down on the ground, sprawled out on the freezing snow. From a corner of my eye, I could see a small patch of blood red seeping deep into the white blanket. I knew it was mine.

"Please stay here, Bel. Do not put strain on yourself right now." His voice was grave, dark. It almost sent me the chills.

Almost.

"You're a vampire, Eduard," I deadpanned, and he just stared at me with large, incredulous eyes. "Admit it, you bloodthirsty creature. Admit that you're a vampire, or so help me…"

His expression grew troubled as he softly groped my forehead. I could feel that his fingers were shivering, but I knew for certain they were not from the current temperatures. "Please, Bel. You hit your head. You are hallucinating. Vampires… do not exist."

"Don't lie." I looked him clear in the eyes as the never-ending chaos resumed in the background. "How will you be able to explain this? You used super speed to run and save me. You… Eduard… You're a vampire. You even said so yourself. You are _not_ normal."

His face was construed with frustration, and I found slight satisfaction within that. The fact that he refused to admit his true nature, however, frustrated myself beyond belief. It wasn't like I would be telling anyone any time soon, anyway. Though, I suppose we haven't exactly known each other long enough to even have a grain of trust within each other, even despite out numerous common grounds.

Eduard stared at me, silently entreating me, saying that he wanted to put our conversation on hold for a while. I wouldn't do that, though. I was positive I was the right one here, and I wanted him to stop denying his true existence. I wanted him to admit to me that he craved for the blood of others, just as much as I did. So, I grabbed onto the argument closely, carefully, as if it was my very own little baby. Eduard wanted an abortion, apparently.

"Please, Bel," he said exasperatedly, a suspicious constant from his preceding amused and carefree tone. "There are just some things that are better left unsaid."

"Then show me," I demanded, my shoulder aching from his iron grip. It tightened from the harshness and authority of my remark, and he just continued to stare at me with half-lidded, pleading eyes. "Show me that you are a vampire, and I will leave matters to rest."

"I told you, I am most certainly _not _a vampire." He began biting his lips, his clutch on me shaking a little bit. I knew he was trying to restrain himself from killing me any time soon. It would be a shame, anyway, after saving my life and all, just to kill me a few seconds later. (Though, I suppose fresh blood when the victim is actually alive is better as opposed to musty, dead blood.)

I didn't say anything to him after that, though. Just remained sprawled against the snow, his hand still idly laying atop my shoulder, his eyes piercing my soul. His face was construed with corrupted anger, feigned by the smile he plastered on his face. So fake, so unreal.

Funny. _Just like him._

He sighed at me when he realized I was giving him the silent treatment, and he removed his hand from my shoulder slowly but surely. "Alright, I will explain everything later. Please, Bel… remain seated there for now and do not bring up this topic anymore…"

"Alright," I half-mocked, nodding my head. Deep inside, I was having a euphoric party for a mission accomplished. I'm not sure exactly why, but the slightly enigmatic matters of Eduard's vampirism and his constant refusal of it intrigued me so. Sometimes I wondered if the other citizens were aware of the Grullons overall entities of being vampires. They seemed to know everything else about them, anyway, from the etymology of their names down to how many hairs they had on their heads.

I looked up all of a sudden when I felt the cold escape me. Eduard was no longer sitting next to me, and a rush of paramedics were immediately crowding around me as if I was one huge feast. They were talking too fast for me to comprehend anything, but I could have sworn I made out the words "concussion" and "hospital". That, of course, lead me to assume that I would be going to the hospital and get doctors to check on whether or not the validity of my concussion is true.

Before I could even test out my hypothesis, I heard the sirens of a police car, and my head immediately turned to the side to see Toris running up to me, flailing his arms wildly in the air. His expression bore something that was distinctly childish, eyes red and cheeks puffed up, tear stains everywhere. It reminded me of my older sister. Definitely not my older brother, though; he was as cold as the Russian blizzards during the most frigid times of winter. He was as emotionless as a coniferous tree buried in reddened snow. And for that, I respected him. I did not like showing emotions, either, especially something as embarrassing as crying and sadness.

"Oh, Bel!" he ejaculated melodramatically, his arms wrapping around my waist on the immediate he was only a foot away from where I was sitting. "Bel. Bel!" The panic and worry in his shaky voice was almost too much. Everyone quieted down after hearing his despondent tone.

"I am fine," I said plainly, slowly. "A vampire saved me. Eduard Grullon. The… _vampire_."

Toris just looked at me, asking without actually saying anything if I was indeed crazy. His shivering, ungloved hands lingered towards my forehead, an action that deemed to show his foggy state of worry for me. "Bel… you hit your head pretty hard, huh?"

"Not really…" I mumbled softly, my eyes diverting in every single direction possible in a subconscious search for the aforementioned vampire, whom of which undoubtedly saved my life using his supernatural powers. That, I promised myself, was the whole truth and nothing but it, even if he did deny it. Even if it didn't seem plausible sometimes as he was in one of the sunniest places on earth. The fact of the matter is, Eduard Grullon is a vampire, and I am going to hold on to that until he finally confesses that to me.

And, possibly… maybe… confess something else…

Toris may be right; I think I really _may_ have hit my head a little too hard.

I sighed and stared off into space, my eyes flickering towards the scene before me. I was now able to make out Eduard Grullon, off in the distance, with the rest of his siblings. They were staring at him with incredulous eyes, their expressions an amalgam of approval and disappointment. Eduard remained calm, refined, his hands casually stuffed inside his pants pockets. His face, however, was a compromising show of regret.

The only question was, regret for what?

Of course, Toris shoved me into the ambulance car before I could even fathom another thought. I was strapped down, and Toris was beside me the entire time, holding my hand in an iron clutch, whispering things that would make the entire experience all the more relaxing. It didn't, however. As a matter of fact, it only proved to make even myself worry, as the fact that someone was worrying for my wellbeing and attempting to calm me down made it so that I thought my injuries may have been a little bit too serious. And, I suppose that my little "Eduard is a vampire" comment may have thrown Toris for a loop, making him think that the head injury I succumbed had affected my overall intellectuality and sanity. But… I digress.

They hurried me off into the emergency room with quickened paces. Then, the doctors and nurses started to work on me in the immediate I was laid down onto the coma. The natural hospital smell wafted into my nostrils, making me feel a lot sicker than I originally was. Hospitals brought back both good and bad memories, just like the snow… Both white, both tranquil, both horrible.

I stayed on the bed for a while longer, my eyes fixated on the ceiling in a sort of feeling of trepidation, until that moment was ruined by the sound of the opening of the door. I looked in the direction of the sound and stared at the stretcher. On top was a dark-skinned boy, whom of which I realized was Sadik Adnan from my physical education class. His face was bloodied and bandaged, and his expression was dulled from fear.

When he was put down on the coma next to mine, he stared at me, his eyes widening and his mouth forming the universal symbol of surprise: a giant "o" shape. "Are… you okay… little girl?"

"No," I sneered unhappily, the poison seething from my mouth full of choleric spite. The anger I directed towards him was moreover from the fact that he called me a "little girl" than anything else.

I glared at him, an awkward silence looming over us. A nearby nurse walked up to the Turkish student and removed the bandages hastily wrapped around his head, revealing several reddened cuts all over his head and forehead. The macabre sight intrigued me, but all the same, I kept up my angered disposition. He continued to stare at me with the same surprise on his face, albeit his eyes were more pleading, more worried.

"Bel," he said seriously, and I found myself softening my hard expression a little bit. "I didn't really mean to. I was… drunk." Of course, that was always the excuse for everything. "But I'm glad that you're not that badly hurt. How'd you get out of the way, anyhow?"

"Eduard Grullon saved me."

His face scrunched up in confusion. "Who the fuck is that?"

"The vampire kid?" I may have looked at him with disbelief, but I suppose not everyone in the entire world should know about Eduard's existence. "Blonde hair, blue eyes, glasses, speaks in an antique and Estonian accent."

"Oh, yes! Eduard Grullon," he said, his face brightening up substantially from his sudden epiphany. "He _is_ actually pretty gothic."

"No, I mean he is a blood-sucking, sparkle-under-the-sun vampire," I tried to convince him, but all he did in reply to my statement was look at me as if I was insane. I don't blame him too much, though. A girl who just hit her head and constantly claimed that a fellow peer of hers is indeed a vampire, I would give that girl a ludicrous expression too as well as a slap in the face. Well, if she didn't have proper and logical justification, anyway. I'm one of the girls who actually has proper reasoning to back up my statement. The only fact that doesn't line up exactly is, I will repeat for the millionth time, the fact that a vampire like him would live in one of the sunniest places on earth. And yes, even though it is snowing, the sun is still out; just hiding behind a few clouds, but still visibly there.

"You… must have hit your head a bit too hard, Bel," he said carefully, slowly, quietly. I pursed my lips; as I thought, he already assumed I was a crazed maniac, just like the rest of the idiotic people around me. "Well, anyway, is he okay? He must've gotten hurt too, from saving your life and all."

"I really don't care," I said nonchalantly, which immediately caused him to shrug and let the subject drop, his head falling back onto the pillow. I mirrored his action and stared at the alabaster ceiling again. Everything felt so tranquil and empty.

_Empty_…

The nurses replaced me onto another stretcher and walked me out of the emergency room whilst using placid words to "calm" me down. The walked me all the way to the examination room to get x-rays of my cranium, which I knew was slightly fractured at most. However, after the x-ray, that told me that nothing was wrong with my head, and everything seemed like it was working properly, much to their amazement. The only thing that really bothered me was my foggy and dizzy head, but from everything that had happened today, who wouldn't have had a minor headache? Especially considering Sadik (he was in the same examination room as I was) returned to his pestering of our former conversation topic, the one where I could never exactly win as he continued to assume that I was to belong to an insane asylum after my deductions of Eduard being a vampire. I tried ignoring him to the best of my abilities, and I ended up forcefully closing my eyes, droning out all excess sounds around me. Until, that was, I heard an ebullient voice gush out right next to me; the voice, I knew, sounded so familiar…

"Bel looks so peaceful when she is sleeping! How adorable!"

I shot out of the spot I was lying on and stared at the source of the voice. It was one of Eduard's siblings. More specifically, it was Emma Grullon, the tanned girl with curly brown hair and bubbly green eyes. She stared at me, smiling with the utmost and genuine happiness, until her ear was pulled down by the other girl—the angry-looking one. _Rosella Fale._

"Shut up, bastard," the beautiful but intimidating young girl scorned softly, her teeth gritting in contempt. The tanned girl smiled sheepishly at Rosella, but complied with the petulant girl's harsh statement obediently.

I was about to just ignore them entirely, all at once, but the moment I heard that all-too-familiar musical voice of Eduard's, I remained still, paralyzed, on the spot, moved by the smoothness of his voice much to my dismay. "Please stop your bickering, Emma, Rosella. You awakened Bel because of your little lover's spat." He smiled—or rather, smirked—in satisfaction. The girls in question both blushed a deep red and flitted out of the room in a split second, leaving Eduard to be alone in the same room as I was.

"Eduard, man, you're not too badly messed up, are you?" Sadik. I forgot about him. Damn.

Eduard nodded his head, flashing the second most suave smile I've ever seen in my entire life. "I am a vampire, after all," he said in a joking tone, and I widened my eyes. He just winked at me, laughing.

Sadik looked confused for a short second, then he looked at me and started to laugh as well. "Ah, yes! Eduard is a vampire indeed! Is Bel a vampire, too?"

I sent Eduard a death glare of doom. He smiled tentatively at me, trying to reassure me with a simple nod of the head and a short wink. The latter only made matters worse, and my rancor-filled glare intensified fervently.

"Bel is not a vampire yet." He directed his statement towards Sadik, but he kept his playful gaze at me, his teeth dazzlingly white and perfect. "She will be once I bite her." Eduard made a faux intent to pounce on me and bite my neck, and all the while, the Turkish guy who almost killed me was laughing at Eduard's good-natured self.

"No public displays of affection," Sadik said, grinning from ear to ear. I choked on the immediate he stated that, and Eduard just smiled nastily, very much amused with himself.

"Wh't 's th's 'bout pu'lic di'play' o' affe'tion?" The owner of the voice (with a very weird and peculiar accent) was the doctor who just walked in, and I stared at him with the widest eyes ever deemed possible. He was young, he was blonde… and he was the scariest and most intimidating man I've ever seen in the entirety of the sixteen years I've been alive. His skin was a creamy white, and he though his hard face looked frigid and emotionless, he was glowing flamboyantly with vitality and life—even despite the dark, black bangs under his eyes. It took me a while to realize who exactly this handsome doctor was, but when it hit me, I realized that it was Eduard Grullon's famed, homosexual father.

"L'dy Lor'naitis," he mumbled softly, his voice a deep undertone of earthly basses. "H'w are ya feelin'?"

"Fine," I said abruptly with the shortest breathe I could imagine. My mind was boggled with wondering and questions concerning Dr. Grullon. What kind of accent did he have? Why did it seem to hard to understand, yet at the same time so plainly easy if you don't think about it? Who exactly was his "wife" figure, and what did he look like? It was a huge mystery, the Grullon family head; but, moreover, the Grullon family in general, who I knew were all pretty much vampires trying to live the ordinary life. This made a lot more sense now, seeing as just earlier today, Eduard's siblings were pretty angry with him after using his superhuman speed to save me from the crushing force of Sadik's car.

Dr. Grullon stared (or… glared) at me awkwardly and checked the x-rays on the light board next to me. He nodded contently, and he stared (glared) at me again. "Yo'r head lo'ks fine. T'at 's good."

"I suppose so," I said wearily, nerved by the dark looks he was giving me. I wasn't sure if it was because he held some sort of enmity for me, or if his face was usually like that.

The latter was correct on my behalf, of course, as genuinely approved by Eduard's sudden chime of, "Do not be scared, Bel. My father does not bite. He is always looking like that."

I wasn't too reassured when I suddenly found Dr. Grullon's giant and intimidating gloved hand creeping towards my head with the grieving intense of crushing my skull into bite-sized pieces. However, instead of that, he gently brushed his cold fingers against the top of my head, sweeping it swiftly, and looked (glared) at me with scary concern, obviously noting the fact that I winced and was shivering the entire time. "Do's it hu't, dear?"

"Not exactly," I mumbled, staring at Eduard, whom of which was currently trying to stifle a chuckle. When he realized I was glaring at him again, Eduard gave me that tantalizing cheeky grin that made my chest grumble with soft flutters and annoying pangs of frustration, both at the exact same time.

"Tor's 's in the waitin' room," Dr. Grullon said in a matter-of-factly way, and I began imagining a fretful Toris bouncing all around the entirety of the room, scaring the sick children away and begging the nurses to make sure that I was perfectly safe and functional. "Actu'lly, mos' of the st'dents 're in the waitin' room too."

"I do not think anyone is even at school today. They are all here, even the entire staff. Well, with the obvious exception of Mr. Edelstein," Eduard said, smiling softly. "Your friend… I believe her name is Elizabeta Héderváry, or 'Lizzy,' is not here either."

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. Lizzy was always there for me, worrying about me, and even though we have only known each other for roughly a few weeks, I was almost certain we were the best of friends. I had seen her earlier today, but even then, she wasn't here. The fact that it hurt me a lot more than it should have worried me; was I becoming a sentimental monster?

Eduard shrugged at me, as if he could read my very thoughts. I sneered at him and rolled my eyes in dismay.

"You are a v'ry f'rtunate l'ttle g'rl." Again with the little girl comment. When Dr. Grullon said it to me, however, I felt as if he was like the second (or technically, gender-wise, third) father I never had.

"If it wasn't for this _vampire_, then I—" My lips began to quiver when I saw Dr. Grullon's light, aquamarine eyes brightened up, ominously glowing with danger. His face darkened to match the gruesome mood of his eyes, and Eduard was by his side immediately, flushing an embarrassing shade of light pink. "—would not be alive…"

"Ah. 's that so?" The intimidating aura he originally emitted was even more intimidating and a lot more bloodthirsty and scary. It even made someone as refined and calm as Eduard shiver, unnerved by everything that was happening right now.

"Bel is tired as all," Eduard tried to reason, but his attempt deemed to be useless. His father just stared at Eduard with a disappointed tint in his eyes. But, it also seemed like he was somewhat happy, which, I thought, didn't make sense at all…

Dr. Grullon sighed. "Ed'ard… boy… 'nly th's once. A'right?"

Eduard nodded, the corners of his lips slightly turning upwards. I quirked an eyebrow in confusion at Dr. Grullon's ambiguous statement to Eduard, but I decided to shrug it off. It probably wasn't too significant anyway; maybe just a foreshadowing of his punishment, or something of the like.

"May I have the liberty to speak to you for a few minutes, Bel?" Eduard asked sweetly, nicely, flashing his signature glittery smile.

"I think your father wants to speak to you first," I hissed angrily, but Dr. Grullon betrayed me ("Actu'lly, I 'm off t' see my w'fe r'ght now t' eat d'nner.").

"Please, Bel," Eduard entreated softly, his smile tugging at my… heart, as much as I don't want to admit it. Dr. Grullon and the strangely taciturn Sadik took this as their cue and excused themselves from the examination room simultaneously, officially leaving me and Eduard alone. In a room. With no one else. (Luckily, it was not in the dark, though something like that could have been easily changed if the mood differed from the current atmosphere.)

When the door closed, Eduard immediately began to stare at me again, scrutinizing me with the upmost interested manner, which reminded me so much of the time when we first glanced at each other on the first day of school for me here.

"What do you want?" I said in a snarky manner, which only made him smirk contentedly. "Will you be showing me?"

"Oh, I think it is rather a bit too early for that." He winked. I blushed. Did he realize the unnecessary innuendo in his words when accompanied by my question. "My father has given me the seal of approval, which does not happen too often, but I am glad it is with you. Alas, I will not be able to explain or show you right now."

"Then why do you want to talk…?" I looked at him in disbelief when he grabbed a hold of both of my hands in his, his eyes piercing through my own which forced me to focus on him and only him. He did the same, and the fervent heat of the closeness and intimacy of our stares brought upon a heated glow to my cheeks. His face was also equally rubicund.

"Bel… will you please go on a date with me?" He added as an addition, "I will pay for everything, and we may go anywhere you wish. Amusement park, movie theatres, a candle-lit dinner…" He grinned at the latter. I choked.

"I… I already have plans with… with… Lizzy and Madeline!" I explained hastily, my mouth going dry. What exactly was this, for me to feel so anxious, so scared? It was only some random boy asking me out for a date; how many times had something like this occurred similarly throughout all the life, and how many times had I denied them the pleasure to take me out and instead opted for stepping on their faces with my heeled boot? This was something I was definitely not used to—to feel so uncomfortable and fidgety with a boy who was not my precious brother, to feel so different and so… magical.

"We may adjust the time to suit your needs," Eduard said, his hands still holding mine gently. It was cold, like marble. But even then, I could feel a wave of warmth run throughout our veins in ecstatic chemistry. "Please, Bel. I will explain everything."

"You promise?" I challenged childishly, and he just stared and laughed at me.

He dropped my hands onto my lap and put one of his in front of me, sticking out his pinky finger precariously. "I promise," he said, nodding his head. When I hadn't moved an inch, too shocked to really take in any of this mind-blowing information into further analysis and consideration, he used his free hand to navigate my hands towards his extended one. Swiftly, he curled my fingers—all with the exception of my pinky finger—and brought them towards his extended hand. And, when our pinky fingers meant, I found myself subconsciously wrapping my own little finger with his. He whispered another, "I promise," and I mentally said that, too.

We then unfurled our little promise fingers from each other and began looking into each other's eyes again. It felt like I was a kid again—a kid who was in love, and from the constant blushing I assumed I was. But I couldn't have been. I couldn't have been in love with someone like a vampire, especially not someone whom of which I had barely known for. Eduard Grullon was still a big mystery as far as I was concerned, and I was not exactly sure I wanted to learn anything about him. I wasn't exactly sure I wanted to know about his past, his secrets, his life, his family. However, I had promised that I would go on a date with him, and I would assume that when he said he would explain "everything" to me, that "everything" would include the list aforementioned, and possibly even beyond that, into uncharted and taboo territory.

I would have thought about standing him up on our date plan, per se, but when I said I was honest, I meant it. Keeping promises was something I held by wholeheartedly, as childish as it sounded. In all my life, I had never broken a promise, albeit all the promises I had ever made were with my older siblings. This time, it was with a non-family member that I barely knew, yet I still found that I had the ability to trust him fully, wholly, equally without a single moment of hesitation. I was just frightened by the fact that I may be getting myself into more than I bargained for. Wasn't he the one who warned me that some things were better left unsaid?

"Bel," he said smoothly, bringing me out of my reverie. He looked at me, and I looked at him, but I could see that his face was getting ever so closer to my own every passing second. Then, when his face was a little too close for comfort, he chuckled at me softly and winked, patting my head in a brotherly manner. He walked off after that, leaving me all alone in the examination room.

After a few minutes of confusion, I walked out of the room, too, feeling too dizzy and lightheaded to even think. When I stepped into the waiting room, I saw a frantic Toris rush up to me, hugging me hurriedly, and asking me all sorts of questions pertaining to my health and wellbeing. I nodded every one of them off, telling him that I was too tired to think right now. He laughed slowly but said nothing more, only picking me up and carrying me bridal style right out of the hospital.

A few minutes later, when we finally got back to our house, he gently laid me down on my bed and pecked me ever so slightly on my throbbing forehead. I groaned softly, and he sighed at me and turned off the lights to me room. Everything was so weird today. Everything felt like it had gone into a fast forward, and things just rushed by me before I could even comprehend them. All of them, surprisingly, had to do with Eduard Grullon, the most significant figure in my life right now. I, honestly, would have never thought it would be the kid whom I thought hated my guts from the first day, but in an ironic twist of fate, it apparently was. I'm not sure if I am glad for that, but one thing is for certain: I will inevitably be having a date with Eduard Grullon in the future, and he will be telling and explaining and showing me _everything_ . Whatever that "everything" was.

Suddenly, I drifted off to sleep. I dreamt of a lot of things, but the most prominent image in my dreams was of Eduard Grullon in a visage of a bloodthirsty, murderous vampire. And, quite frankly, he wanted _my_ blood.


End file.
